Back Home
by renisanz
Summary: A sequel to "Making Up the Past". Settling down won't be easy for either of them. Ronon/Keller. *UPDATED*
1. Prologue

TITLE: Back Home - Prologue

AUTHOR: renisanz

SUMMARY: A sequel to "Making Up the Past"

CATEGORY: romance, drama (Ronon/Keller)

RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, but they're fun to play.

NOTES: This isn't going to make any sense unless you read "Making Up the Past". Then, check out "Blush" for a prelude to this scene. This will be here when you get back. : ) Or, you can just jump right into this story, and then go back and read the rest at your leisure. And I guess there's a spoiler for _McKay & Mrs. Miller_ at the end.

* * *

All of these lines across my face_  
_

_Tell you the story of who I am__  
_

_So many stories of where I've been__  
_

_And now I've got to where I am__  
_

_But these stories don't mean anything__  
_

_When you've got no one to tell them to. . ._

"The Story" by Brandi Carlile

"Ronon?"

"Hm?"

"What _was_ your mother's name?"

Ronon smirked as he remembered their conversation from the early hours of this morning.

Memories of long dark hair, a petite frame, with strong arms flashed before his closed eyelids.

"Ayleni. Ayleni Nesrin."

"AY-leh-nee Nez-rhen," Jennifer repeated. "Beautiful name. She was really pretty, wasn't she?"

"Yeah." He shifted next to her and turned to look down into Jennifer's curious brown eyes. "She was the most beautiful."

It was late in the afternoon. In the morning, Ronon had attended the scheduled debriefing from yesterday evening's mission. Jennifer had gone in to work her shift the infirmary that morning, but had left early because she was experiencing more nausea. They had eaten lunch together and then retired to his room (bigger bed) for an afternoon nap. He figured she wasn't really all that tired after all. Still, he was happy to spend time with her.

"So. . ." she said after swallowing another bite of a salted cracker. She had said they helped quell her 'morning sickness.' "Her last name wasn't 'Dex'?"

"No. I have her family name, too. Dex was my father's."

"Oh really? So your name is Ronon Nesrin Dex?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." She looked thoughtful for a moment. Her fingers had been toying with the wrinkles in his shirt, smoothing and pulling them up, and he quite enjoyed the sensation.

She paused her actions and looked back up at him. "So, no middle name?"

"What's that?"

"It's a name your parents give you apart from your last name, or family name, as you call it, to further distinguish you from others. It helps because on Earth a lot of people have the same first and last name. Do you have one of those?"

"Yeah. It's Jae."

"Jay?" It sounded strange to him coming from her lips. He liked the way her mouth quirked as her brow creased as she thought about it. "Ronon Jae Nesrin Dex."

"Yeah. That's me," he sighed, stroking her hair.

"So what's it mean? Your name, I mean."

He sat up a bit more as he considered her question. No one on Atlantis had ever asked him such things. He figured they never needed to. It wasn't important. But it seemed important to Jennifer in this moment and he liked that.

"Uhm. . . _Ronon_ means "song of joy".

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Why?" He was intrigued by the disbelief in her voice.

She squirmed a little against him, looking away for a moment then back up at him. He didn't understand why her cheeks got that familiar pink tint, but he liked it all the same.

"Nothing. It's just. . . Well, I thought it'd mean 'strong and powerful' or something like that, because. . .well, you are."

He smiled at her. "Yeah, well, my father would have liked that. He wasn't around when I was born to say different, though. But I guess my mother compromised on my 'middle name'."

"Why? What does it mean?"

"_Jae_ means 'guardian, protector.'"

He caught the twinkle in her eye as she smirked in approval. "I guess your mom knew something about who you would turn out to be."

"I guess she did." He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. He pulled away, taking the salty taste of her crackers with him.

"Mhm." He licked the taste from his lips. "Can I have one of those?"

Jennifer pulled back the waxy paper that covered her stack of crackers and offered them to him. Ronon took about half of them.

"Hey!" She squealed. She reached to take some of the crackers back, but he turned away from her as he popped two in his mouth, flashing a mischievous smile.

Jennifer leaned back onto his bed in defeat. "Next time, I'm so throwing up on you."

He rolled his eyes at her and leaned back next to her, nudging his shoulder against hers. "I look forward to it," he said, finishing off another cracker.

"So. . ." he started, draping a long arm around her shoulders. "What's _your_ middle name?"

"Jennifer."

At that Ronon looked down at her. She didn't meet his gaze, though, and she was suddenly very interested in the some invisible spot on his bedsheets.

"Your _middle name_ is Jennifer?"

"Mhmm." He caught her eyes as they darted briefly to his face.

"What's your first name then?"

"It's uh. . ." she bit her lip. "You _really_ want to know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

She looked up at him now with nothing but deadly seriousness in her eyes. "Promise me this never leaves this room."

"Promise."

"Agnes."

"AG-nis?"

"Yeah."

Ronon failed to see what was so terrible about the name. "Why don't you like it?"

"Because it's just so _old_, and. . . just. . . ugh. I was named after my grandmother. I'm just really glad my parents gave me a decent middle name, thank God." She let out a breath, laying back against the pillows.

"Ok, so what's it mean?"

Jennifer tilted her head toward him, but not her eyes. "You really don't want to know."

Ronon sighed in frustration and glared at her.

He didn't mean for her to flinch, but she was being so difficult and he didn't understand why.

"It means . . . 'chaste'," Jennifer sighed.

"Chaste? Like . . . _pure_?"

"Yeah. _Virginal_, more specifically," she explained.

"Oh." He got it now. He watched as Jennifer tucked her hair behind both ears and then crossed her arms over her chest. He realized how hard this all must be for her, with not only dealing with her current physical condition, but the circumstances that had led up to it. Still, he hated it when she drew away from him in this way of hers.

"Hey," he said.

He waited for her to look up at him before he continued. "Ya know what McKay's first name is?"

He smiled slightly when he saw her brow crinkle in confusion. "It's not _Rodney_?"

"Nope," Ronon smirked.

He was happy to see a smile tug the corners of her lips. "What? What is it?"

A waited a beat and then said it. "Meredith."

"_Meredith_?"

"Yeah," Ronon confirmed. "It's a girl's name, right?"

"O_h yeah_," Jennifer giggled. "Oh my goodness. That's. . . pretty bad."

"Make sure to tease him about it."

"Oh, I will. The next time he comes in the infirmary with some fabricated symptom, for sure." She was laughing now, and Ronon relished the sound.

He was not expecting her to kiss him, deeply. Instinctively, his hands went to her body, his right hand cupped her jaw, long fingers circling around to the back of her neck. His other hand remembered the bit of skin on her hip left exposed where her shirt had ridden up. Still, Jennifer managed to keep both her hands pressed to his chest, preventing him from pulling her any closer to him. Though Ronon respected her subtle signal that she desired not to go any further than kissing, it was all he could to keep his brain floating just above the surface of this moment, not getting swallowed down in the depths of his desire for her.

And then she was pulled away, suddenly shy and breathless. He noticed that the pink flush common to her cheeks now resided in her lips.

"So. . . uhm. . ." Ronon cleared his throat and found more resolve to ask what had been in the back of his mind since that morning. "When do I get to meet your father?"

In an instant the color was gone from Jennifer's face.

TBC.

* * *

A/N: I think someone's been talking to someone about Earth customs. . .

Thanks so much for all y'all's reviews on "Blush". As always, comments are expected and appreciated (I'm looking at you, person who faves the story and adds it to your Story Alert but then fails to leave a review.) LOL. Seriously though, thanks for reading. : )


	2. Chapter 1

TITLE: Back Home – Pt. 1

NOTES: Spoilers for Season 4: _Missing, Quarantine, Outcast, Trio_. The story opens with a scene that occurs right before the Prologue, after the morning debriefing but before Ronon and Jen's afternoon nap.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So, you and the Doc are getting pretty serious."

Ronon raised an eyebrow at his friend before turning to choose a fighting staff from the holding rack, twirling it once to test the weight of it.

Sheppard had meant it more as an observation than a question. Ronon knew that John was aware of his affections for the doctor. He had even given him tips on the best way to initially approach her and make his interest known. Normally Ronon would not have had the need for nor heeded such guidance. Though it had been many years since Ronon had remotely considered such things as courtship and the art of romance, he pretty much knew what worked. Jennifer, however, was from another galaxy, so there were obvious social and cultural differences that he wanted to take into consideration.

He wanted to get it right with her.

So maybe Sheppard had been more than a little skeptical about Ronon's choice of approach. He had told Ronon that it would be good to spend time with Jennifer to find out her interests, what she liked ("Just ask her out"). Ronon found that it was much more easily said than done. At first, it was obvious to him that Jennifer was intimidated by his presence. Whenever she treated him in the infirmary she was professional and polite, but her body language screamed apprehension. He was sure she wasn't really afraid of him as much as unsure of how to relate to him. So, in silence the two of them would sit as she disinfected his wounds, sewed them closed, and the applied dressing with particular care.

Eventually, Ronon found that he preferred to encounter her in this way. He really liked how gentle she was with him. She was well aware that he had a high tolerance for pain, so he wouldn't have complained if his treatment hurt more than a little. But Jennifer actually _did not_ hurt him—at all. She was good at her job, and he admired that about her. And whatever doubts he had about her fitness as Chief Medical Officer on the expedition were slowly put to rest, first when she told him of her survival against the _Bola Kai_, and then when she had risen to the occasion of exploding an oxygen tank in a desperate attempt to escape from the infirmary during the quarantine lockdown.

Even now, Ronon smiled at the memory of her look of uncertain fear just before he blew the tank. Well, he figured, at that point she was probably game for anything that would keep him from tearing his stitches once again.

And then they had almost kissed.

In the weeks following, he and Jennifer didn't speak about the events of that day. Not that he didn't want to. It was just that, well, they'd both been pretty busy.

Then Sheppard's father had died, and Ronon had accompanied him to Earth for the funeral.

Jennifer had gone off-world on a trading mission along with Col. Carter and Rodney. He had not minded when he saw Jennifer having a drink with McKay afterwards. He actually liked that she was one of the few people that didn't take his crap, and he appreciated the quick wit she displayed when teasing him. Also, McKay had just screwed thing up with Katie, so Ronon was actually glad to see him outside of the lab socializing instead of inside it, burying himself in some experiment.

Before he knew it nearly a month had passed since he'd talked to Jennifer. Ronon supposed that this had been what had been distracting him one afternoon, as he was hosting a training session with the Marines. The one he was sparring with at the moment wasn't particularly skilled, and Ronon was showing him how to best disarm an opponent when fighting with a stave. Ronon had instructed the young man to attack him, without warning. Normally, Ronon would have been ready, but right at the moment his opponent chose to attack, he got a glimpse of Jennifer as she walked past the gym entrance. A second later he saw a flash of light and felt a sharp sting against his brow, followed close behind by the sounds of gasps and "Ooooh's".

Ronon knew even before he touched his fingers to his brow and brought blood-stained fingertips before his eyes that he would need stitches. _Awesome_.

"Nice shot," Ronon said to the dumbfounded Marine who had just inflicted the blow. Ronon tossed his stave to the man as he turned to make his way to the infirmary. He slowed his gait when he saw Jennifer standing in the doorway of the gym. She didn't meet his eyes as he came to stand before her, but her expression was a mix of concern and exasperation as she inspected the cut above his eyebrow.

"Stitches?" Ronon offered.

"Yeah. Stitches." She sighed and then turned into the hallway. "Come on."

Obediently, Ronon followed behind her to the nearest transporter.

Thirty minutes later, he returned to the gym for his next instruction session. He had planned to spar, but Jennifer would not release him from the infirmary—would not let him up from the examining table, actually—unless he promised not to do anything that would aggravate his fresh stitches.

"Ah. Didn't know if you were going to make it back," Major Lorne drawled, as he stood up from the wall he had been leaning against.

There was something strange about Lorne's tone and the smile that tugged at his lips as he signaled the other Marines to circle around the training mat.

Ronon deferred to Lorne to take the Marines through hand-to-hand combat motions, while he watched. He only spoke up if their technique needed correcting. For some reason, though, the Marines seemed particularly distracted, unable to maintain eye contact with him.

At the end of the lesson, Ronon went to one of the window benches to retrieve his water bottle. Lorne came up next to him, put his foot up on the bench, and began retying his shoe lace. "So, uh. . .who patched you up in the infirmary?"

Ronon swallowed and turned to look down at the man. "Dr. Keller."

"Ah," Lorne replied.

"Why?" Ronon asked, scratching at the edge of the bandage on his brow.

"Oh, no reason. Just wondering."

Ronon narrowed his eyes at him but didn't press the issue.

Finished with his shoe laces, Lorne stood and turned to walk away. Then he turned back suddenly, as if he had just remembered something. "I was just asking because I didn't think _you_ would have picked out a Hello-Kitty Band-aid."

_So, was it serious?_

"Yeah," Ronon confirmed, twirling his stave once more as he faced Sheppard in first fighting position.

He was pretty sure he loved her sense of humor best.

_You say I'm stubborn__  
and I never give in__I think you're stubborn  
'cept you're always softening_

_. . .Walking with each other  
Think we'd never match at all  
But we do_

—"My Same" by ADELE

TBC.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Yeah, so, this chapter and the prologue, I now realize, are rather interchangeable. Oh well. I hope y'all appreciate _my _sense of humor. Just to clarify the timeline of this story; these events occur before _Midway_. I'm working up to it.

This chapter is brought to you by the letters R and K, and inspired by (who else?) Hello-Kitty (I do actually own those Band-aids).

Crits & comments expected and appreciated. Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 2

TITLE: Back Home – Pt. 2

DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, but they're fun to play.

NOTES: Hmm. . . spoilers? _BAMSR_, _Quarantine, McKay & Mrs. Miller _(but you definitely should have seen that ep by now)_. Apologies? _Sorry this took so long. This narrative has a mind of it's own.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer rubbed the bridge of her nose and then looked back into the eyepiece of the microscope. She flipped a switch to increase the magnification, but the action proved futile. The view in front of her didn't reveal anything new that the last fifty or so attempts had. She needed a fresher, more concentrated sample if she was going to isolate the specific chemical that up to this point had eluded detection. The deterioration of the sample made a stronger case for the prospect that she would have to go back there—to Ferra.

She leaned away from the desk, absently reaching for the cup she had laid somewhere on the side of the machine. Her fingers circled around the cool handle of her mug, bringing it to her lips. The cup was nearly to her mouth before she realized it was empty. _Great_. Now she was out of tea, too. She sighed in longing for the sweet taste of chai as she barely managed to not slam the cup down on the table. Normally, Jen would be drinking a steaming cup of cappuccino, but now she had to consider the effect the caffeine would have on the two little beings developing inside her. It had been barely a week since she had discovered that she was not only pregnant, but carrying twins. Jennifer still had yet to reveal her condition to Col. Cater. She knew that she would have to reveal it to the woman when she presented her with the information that had fueled her need to return to Ferra.

And there was still the matter of telling her father. Jenifer had yet to figure out a way to tell him about Ronon. However, she was particularly adverse to the idea telling him about his future grandchildren over e-mail.

"Why does everything have to be so complicated," she mumbled to the air of the empty lab, rubbing her hands over her face. In her rolling stool, she pushed away from the desk and turned to get up. Jennifer gasped as her legs swung into something solid. In her peripheral vision all she saw was a tall dark figure. She jumped back, nearly falling off her stool, until strong hands grasped her upper arms, steadying her.

"_Geez_, Ronon!" she breathed, clasping a hand over her chest in a vain effort to calm her racing heart.

"Sorry," he said. His hands lingered on her arms, and Jennifer welcomed the warmth from him as it seeped through her jacket to her cool skin.

"You _have_ to stop doing that," she chided. He looked genuinely apologetic.

"I know." He leaned down. ""M'sorry," he murmured, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

Jennifer couldn't help but smile in response to his affections. "It's ok. Just. . .be louder or something when you're walking up behind me."

Ronon just smirked in reply. He looked over her head and nodded toward the table behind her. "You working on something important?"

Jennifer glanced back at her notes and then back at Ronon. "Uhm, kinda. Why? Did you need something?"

"Just you," he sighed, taking her hand, and she let him pull her up into a hug. Jennifer brought her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. She loved how he was always so warm. She felt the familiar tickle at the top of her head that she had come to recognize as Ronon nuzzling her hair. She breathed him in as well.

A loud rumbling sound coming from Ronon's abdomen startled her. Jennifer leaned back to looked up at his green-brown eyes and saw a smile there. "Was that. . .your stomach?" she giggled.

"Yeah. You wanna get dinner?" It wasn't quite quite a question.

Though she had not had much of an appetite these last several days, Jennifer knew she still needed to try to eat whenever possible. Despite this, she had managed to gain weight. "Sure." Then she remembered that Marc was coming back to the help her. He had already left to go get dinner, inviting Jen along, but she had opted to stay and continue working. "Let me just leave Dr. Pedersen a note."

Right before Jennifer turned to find the notepad, she caught the unreadable expression Ronon got whenever she referred to Dr. Pedersen. He never said anything, though, so Jennifer just figured it was some sort of male rivalry playing out. _Whatever_, she rolled her eyes before scribbling a brief message.

The note written, Jennifer placed it on the opposite side of the desk that was Marc's work station. She turned back to Ronon. "Ready?"

Ronon was looking intently at her, his eyes traveling over her body, causing Jennifer to become self-conscious. "What?" She looked down at herself, timidly pulling at the inside edges of her jacket.

Ronon met her eyes. "You look. . . pregnant."

_Well, duh_, Jennifer thought. A second later she understood what Ronon meant. She looked down at herself once more. Her abdomen was beginning to have the tell-tale curve that was unique to pregnancy. She was hardly far along, but the fact that she was carrying two babies was making the changes in her body more apparent than normal.

"Is it that obvious?" Jennifer worried. "I mean, you already know, and you notice everything, anyway—"

Jennifer let the sentence trail off as Ronon shook his head. She watched him with curiosity as he stepped forward, grasping the ends of her jacket. He brought the two ends together and zipped her jacket up about halfway. "Ok, you're good now," he winked.

Jennifer blushed. Fortunately, she had worn her older looser, uniform jacket as her newer, more tailored jacket no longer fit properly. At the rate she was going, clothes were definitely going to become a problem. She had failed to make a list of things-to-pack-in-case-you-get-knocked-up-offworld-and-want-to-hide-it. Needless to say, her maternity wardrobe was nonexistent. She thought back to how Teyla had gone nearly three months without anyone discovering her pregnancy. _Maybe I should ask her for some tips, "hiding your baby-bump 101"_, she mused.

Her stomach gurgled, bringing her thoughts back to the present. "Let's go get some food," she sighed. Ronon let her lead the way.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer scanned the mess hall for a place to sit. She spotted Teyla sitting alone at a table near the far right corner of the room. "Let's go sit with Teyla," she whispered, as Ronon came up beside her.

He shrugged in response, but followed behind her as she made her way across the mess. Teyla looked up and smiled as they approached.

"Hey, Teyla. Mind if we join you?" Jennifer paused.

"Not at all," Teyla gestured for them to sit down.

Jennifer set her tray on the table, sliding into the seat across from Teyla. Ronon took a seat to the left of Jennifer.

After he and Jen had joined Teyla, McKay showed up shortly afterward. It wasn't that he had minded Rodney's presence. Plus, Jennifer was there, and he relished the opportunity to be audience when Jennifer asked him about his real name—_Meredith_. _Yeah_, Ronon definitely loved her sense of humor.

Eventually, the conversation turned to more sobering matters. It started with Rodney asking Jennifer how she had been feeling. Ronon could see that Jennifer was touched by Rodney's genuine concern for her, despite her teasing. Ronon couldn't fault him for trying.

Then Sheppard had joined them, sliding int the empty seat next to Teyla, as usual. Ronon was glad that they were getting along better than when she first told him she was pregnant. Ronon noticed change in the dynamic of John and Teyla's relationship, but he did not begin go understand the complexities of their relationship.

Ronon, however, had yet to confide in the Colonel about his situation with Jennifer. He had asked John about Earth customs in relation to courtship and how to proceed when one wanted to pursue a serious relationship. From what he had gathered from Jennifer's beliefs and in keeping with his personal sense of honor, Ronon knew it was imperative that he meet Jennifer's father—soon.

Ronon had a feeling that John sensed something was up, but just chose not to press the issue, as they all made small talk, discussing which candidates for the next film to be shown at movie night.

And Rodney had been doing an excellent job keeping his mouth shut about the whole thing.

Sheppard had balled up his napkin and deposited on his finished tray. "Well, I'm outta here," he announced, gathering his tray and standing. "Oh, Doc, I heard you've been feeling under the weather lately. There's not a bug going around we should be worried about or anything?"

Somehow Rodney managed to choke on the spoonful of Jell-O he had just scooped into his mouth.

Jennifer flushed, and Ronon felt her fingers grope for his hand under the table, then entwine his. "No, no. . .uhm. . Nothing serious. Just been working a little too hard, I guess."

Jennifer was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with John, but John didn't seem to mind. He was giving Ronon a look that knowing and questioning at the same time, very similar to the look he had gotten after the quarantine lockdown.

John's eyes flicked back to Jennifer. "Well, just take it easy." He met Ronon's eyes, "Both of you." He nodded, smirked at Teyla, and then left them all.

Ronon narrowed his eyes, his mouth slightly open. Teyla merely raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips in an effort to fight off the smile that was coming.

Rodney was still wheezing, recovering from the dessert he had mistakenly inhaled. "Wait. . .does he _know_?" he rasped.

"No," Teyla chimed in. She leaned closer to the table before she continued, so as not to be overheard. "I believe that John is under the impression that Jennifer is fatigued from her 'activities' with Ronon."

Rodney scoffed.

Ronon furrowed his brow, but then managed an amused smile.

Overcome with embarrassment, Jennifer buried her reddening face in her arms resting on the table. "Someone, shoot me, please," Ronon heard her moan.

_These hearts,_

_They race from self-control_

_Your legs are smooth_

_As they graze mine_

_We're doing. . ._

_We're doing nothing at all._

—"Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional

TBC.

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A/N: Oh, John, _if only you knew_. Thanks **tardiscalling** for encouraging me to persevere in writing the dinner scene. It was _so close_ to being scrapped. Seriously.

Comments are so appreciated and encouraging to me. Thank you guys. :)


	4. Chapter 3

TITLE: Back Home – Pt.

SUMMARY: Settling down won't be easy for either of them. Ronon/Kelle

WORDS: 2,375

DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer entered the lab to see Dr. Marc Pedersen peering into a microscope. He was stationed on the opposite side of her work area. After dinner, she had decided to stop by the lab to check on his progress before heading, thankfully, to bed.

"Find anything new—"

She stopped mid-sentence as he jumped, startling her in turn.

_So it wasn't so hard to sneak up on people after all_, she mused. "I'm so sorry," she said, smiling a bit to break the tension. She slid onto her stool across from him.

He shyly ran a hair through his shaggy, dark brown hair. He slid a pair of black-rimmed glasses onto his face (Jennifer thought they gave him a slight _emo_ look) and then regarded her. "I've made a bit of progress," he began. To Jennifer he looked as though he was trying to contain his excitement.

However, she couldn't get past the emo thing. She didn't realized she was staring until he asked, "What?"

Her eyes widened as her cheeks flushed. "Nothing, you just—I didn't know you wore glasses," she finished, lamely.

"Ah," he smirked, lifting an eyebrow in dubiety. "I'm on my last pair of contacts. I put off requesting new ones in time for the next supply shipment, so it's gonna be a while," he sighed. "I think they make me look smarter," he quipped.

Jennifer dimpled at the last comment. "Try pretentious," she countered.

"Touché," he allowed, his eyes sparkling in mirth.

She had to admit, the glasses somehow made his blue eyes stand out even more. In person, he looked so much different than the crappy photo in his personnel file. What had stood out to her most was that he was actually around her age (she being one of the youngest people on the expedition), and that had piqued her interest him, apart from his academic attributes. He had most likely skipped a grade or two himself during his formative years, and he had possibly shared some of her experiences in being an outsider, never quite fitting in with her much older peers. Of course, he was quite accomplished in the field of medicine, biochemistry being a specialty of his that was proving advantageous at this moment.

And yet, Jennifer had not gotten to know him until very recently, shortly before she had become pregnant actually. He was cute and she liked his quirky sense of humor . . . but he was no Ronon Dex. Ronon was, well, he was Ronon, and amazing didn't begin to encompass what he had proved to be these past few weeks. That alone put to rest any lingering thoughts she may have had of what-might-have-been-if-only.

Refocusing her attention on the problem at hand she asked, "So what did you find?"

"I _think _I've isolated one of the compounds in the sample that contributes to fertility. It has a structure very similar to _clomid_ . . . but it works like clomid on crack."

Jennifer was both amused and slightly frightened by the analogy. Clomid was a fertility drug used to stimulate ovulation. "Wait . . . clomid takes a few weeks to work. I only had the wine and got pregnant the same night."

"Yes, hence the 'on crack' reference," Dr. Pedersen nodded. "But this clomid-like substance is only one of the components. They probably all work in tandem to increase fertility. There are still many other factors to consider. Either way, this is an incredible breakthrough. You were right to look into this more. If we could acquire more of this," he didn't quite know what to call it, "this drug, and find a way to reproduce it . . . It has amazing potential to treat people suffering from infertility."

"Absolutely," Jennifer agreed. Still, she knew it wouldn't be that simple. "However, there may be unforeseen side effects. For example, it might have worked differently on me because I'm not a native of the planet, or this galaxy for that matter." Jennifer's mind was working overtime with all the possibilities. "Maybe that's why I couldn't remember anything," she mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

Jennifer looked up at Marc and blushed. Had she said that out loud? She figured she might as well tell him, since he had kept her confidence thus far. "The day after me and Ronon . . . yeah. I couldn't remember anything from the night before."

"But nothing showed up on your tox screen." He stated. She was glad he kept his tone professional.

"No. Ronon's memory was affected as well. That's why I initially thought he had drugged us."

"Who's 'he'?" Marc's brow furrowed in ignorance of the situation.

_Oh, crap_. Jennifer hadn't told Marc the story of her ordeal on Ferra. She figured he knew that it had been bad, but he had never asked her for details, a fact of which she was immensely glad.

Her uncertainty was apparent, for he then said, "It's ok. I didn't mean to pry—"

"No, no," she interjected, putting a hand up, indicating him to be silent. "I think it's important for you to know all the facts."

"Alright," he said in a measured tone.

Jennifer took a deep breath, looking away as she prepared to relay the facts when Marc interrupted, "Wait . . . is there _kissing_ in this story?"

She looked up to see his face scrunched in an expression of _faux_ repulsion. Her mouth hung open for a moment, allowing an astonished laugh to bubble forth. She fought hard against the urge to chuck a nearby test tube at his head. Jennifer supposed she would have to get used to a bit of teasing about her relationship with Ronon. She could pretty much take anything after the exceedingly awkward experience she'd had at dinner.

A rueful smirk was her only reply to his inquiry as she began to recount the fateful events of that night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer glanced her watch once again as she waved her hand over the control crystals to open the door to her room. _Crap!_ It was nearly a quarter to ten. She had told Ronon that she would only be a few minutes in the lab, and that was nearly two hours ago. _Crap, crap, crap_.

Quickly, she stripped off her clothes, leaving a trail behind her on the way to the bathroom.

_Wait, why am I freaking out?_ she wondered as she stepped under the warm spray of the shower. Ronon would understand. She just got carried away a bit in the lab. Ok, maybe she wouldn't use those exact words when explaining her tardiness to him, especially with the wary looks he'd given Marc in the past. But Ronon wasn't really the jealous type, _was he_? She figured they might have to talk about this very soon. Like, tonight even, if Ronon made it an issue.

Ten minutes later, Jennifer emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing in her wake. She felt refreshed, at least. She crossed the room and sat down at her desk, where her laptop was stationed. She hadn't checked her email all day, and she needed to see if there were any messages that warranted an immediate reply. There were none, thankfully. However, she was slightly disheartened to see that her father had not emailed her today. He had been emailing her every Tuesday for a while now. Well, she still had to tell him about Ronon, so she decided to take tomorrow morning to compose a message breaking him into the news, save for her pregnancy.

She pulled down the towel from her atop her head that held up her mess of damp hair, pulling the terrycloth fabric across the length to dry it. At the same time, she rummaged through her drawers for something to wear to bed. She decided on a pale yellow tank top, and dark green pajama pants with orange, blue and yellow vertical pinstripes. After checking her reflection in the mirror, she decided to put on a dark blue hoodie as much for the protect against the chilly air in the halls as to cover up her growing bump during her walk to Ronon's room.

Jennifer had just pulled the garment over her head when she heard the door chime. She had a pretty good idea of who it was. "Come in," she called, as she pulled the hoodie down over the small swell of her abdomen.

She turned to see Ronon walk into her room. "Hey," she smiled. "I was just about to come by."

He simply nodded. He shifted his weight on his feet in a way Jennifer had come to recognize as a sign that he was nervous, uncertain.

"Is everything ok?" she asked, stepping to him.

"Yeah," his voice was a whisper. "I just . . . I didn't know if you were sick again or something."

_Oh my . . . he'd been really worried about me_, Jennifer realized. "I'm sorry. I just took longer than I thought with Marc at the lab."

Jennifer caught Ronon's jaw clench at the mention of her colleague. She was becoming frustrated with this reaction from him, so she decided to finally ask him about it.

"Ronon, do you have a problem with Marc?"

"Nope."

Jennifer wasn't going to back down. It was obvious there was some conflict going on inside him. She crossed her arms and looked up at him incredulously. "Really?"

He just gave her a noncommittal shrug.

"I'm not going to bed until you tell me."

Ronon shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and stared down at her, yet he did not meet her eyes. He looked over her head, and then down at the floor, and then glanced back at her again.

"Ronon," she stepped forward, resting a hand on his upper arm. She waited for him to look up at her. She look of uncertainty in his eyes made her heart twist.

"You've been spending time with him lately. . .a lot," he started.

Jennifer nodded. Yeah, they worked together.

"I—I overheard people talking and stuff. People you worked with. But I came by the lab a few times. . . saw you together."

Jennifer was speechless. _Oh my God, he _is_ jealous_.

But Ronon wasn't finished. "I mean—he's a lot like you. . . from Earth." He seemed to want to say more, but couldn't quite find the words to express what he feared, but Jennifer knew.

He had it completely wrong.

"Ronon, we _work_ together. I'm his _boss. _Oh yeah, and I'm kinda attached to someone else—you_," _emphasized.

"Yeah. But if maybe if you weren't pregnant—"

"Then what? I'd be with _Marc_?" She couldn't believe they were having this conversation, that this was even an issue. She would never have imagined Ronon being insecure of his place in her heart. All the while, she had questioned what he saw in her, whether he would eventually lose interest. In the back of her mind, there was the terrifying thought that the only reason he was still with her now was because of her pregnancy. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, all things considered, but she didn't want that type of commitment from anyone.

Amidst all the uncertainty and emotional turmoil of the moment, Jennifer felt tears welling up in her eyes. "Ronon," she pleaded. "_I love you_." She'd finally said it. Though, she resolved, she'd obviously have to do a better job of reassuring him. "I don't want to be with anyone else, and I'm not l_ooking_ for anyone else." God, she hated these hormones, because it was hard for her to keep from turning into a sobbing mess before making him understand how she felt. She failed to choke back a sob, wiping at her eyes in frustration.

She saw his countenance transform and soften before her eyes blurred with tears, and then Ronon's arms were around her, and she sniffled against his chest. She hated being such a wimp.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you," he murmured, stroking her still damp hair.

She let out a bitter laugh against his shirt. "Yes, you suck," she agreed. She looked up at him, "Seriously, Marc over you?"

Ronon smirked down at her, a bit of sheepishness remaining him as his hand stroked her back. "What?" he shrugged. "He's 'cute', right?"

Jennifer merely rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut _up_," she laughed.

She exhaled, squeezed him to her and relished the warmth of him. "I'm just really glad you didn't beat him up or anything."

"Thought about it."

"Ronon!" she gaped.

"I said I 'thought about it,'" he clarified. "'Sides . . . Teyla said it would make you mad if I did."

Jennifer's head jerked up to see the mischievous twinkle in his hazel eyes. "You're serious?"

Ronon just shrugged before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Jennifer smiled and pulled away from him. She walked over to pick up her hair towel, running it through her hair once more. "Let me just put up my hair and then we can go to your room." She waited for Ronon to nod before turning her dresser to retrieve a comb. When she turned back around, Ronon was right in front of her, and he seemed to be studying her hair.

"What is it?" She was curious.

He brought his gaze from her hair down to her face. "Let me do it."

"Do what?" Her brow furrowed.

"Your hair. Let me do it."

Jennifer just stared at him like he was speaking Czech.

"Trust me," he stated. He held his hand out, indicated for her to give him the comb. Slowly, she placed the plastic hair utensil against the palm of his hand, and he flashed her a wicked grin in return.

It was the middle of the night, and Jennifer had no idea what she had in mind. Yet, when Ronon asked her to trust him, she always did.

He gestured for her to sit down, and after she obeyed, he turned her chair away from the mirror. _So, it's was going to be a surprise. Like I haven't had enough of those tonight, _she mused.

As Ronon gently worked the comb through the tangles of her hair and then began his work, she seemed to fall into a trance. The last thing she was aware of were his fingers moving against her scalp, nimbly weaving together the strands of her hair.

TBC.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: I hope you guy heart Dr. Pedersen, now. :) Or at least, like how I used him as a plot device. I didn't know it when I first wrote it, but now I'm imagining him looking kinda like the character of Riley Poole (Justin Bartha) in the two _National Treasure_ movies, but a bit less cynical. Or maybe not.

The second half of this story was really difficult to write. I didn't want either Jen or Ronon to come off whiny. Hope it worked.

Thanks to **tardiscalling** and **journeyman07** for βetaing.


	5. Chapter 4

TITLE: Back Home – Pt. 4  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.  
NOTES: Sorry this took so long. It if helps to know, I really agonized over writing this chapter.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_It's like lightning in a clear blue sky_

_There's a storm, but you keep it in side_

_It's like thunder when I look in your eyes_

_And it rolls, it rolls so deep._

"Rolls So Deep" by Aqualung

Ronon stirred awake as he felt Jennifer shift beside him. He cracked an eyelid to peek over at her. She appeared to be fighting off wakefulness as she groaned and buried her face in chest. Maybe that was another reason she preferred sleeping in his room. His quarters were situated so that the windows faced the west, where the morning sunlight did not shine through. That made it much easier to sleep in, as he would very much like to do this morning.

"I hate mornings," he heard her say, groggily.

Jennifer had mumbled the words into his shirt, against his chest, and the sensation was strange yet appealing.

He opened both of his eyes to see her lifting her head to look into his face. He didn't know quite how to greet her after her expression of discontent. "Good morning?" He ventured a smile.

Ronon barely stifled a laugh as she buried her face in his chest once more. Then he realized something. Bringing his arms to circle her slight form, he rubbed her back consolingly. "You feeling ok?" Jennifer had not experienced any 'morning sickness' the past few days, but he didn't know how long it would last or if it would come and go.

Jennifer sniffled against is chest. She was . . ._crying?!_

"Jen?" Ronon sat up, gently lifting her with him. "What's wrong?"

Jennifer pulled away from him wiping fresh tears from her eyes. She sat up, tucking her legs underneath her."I'm sorry," she half sobbed, sniffling once again. "I'm just. . .it's just . . ." She closed her eyes and inhaled a ragged breath. When she opened them again, she seemed to have regained some composure.

"Hormones," she said, as if that explained everything.

Ronon, however, was more than a little unsettled by Jennifer's behavior. Though he was glad that he wasn't the cause of Jennifer's unexpected outburst of emotion, it was just weird to have her crying all of a sudden, and it pained him to see her in such a state no matter what the source.

As if she sensed his doubt Jennifer reassured him, "I'm ok, really." Her smile seemed sincere enough. He watched her as she moved her hand to brush a stray tendril behind her ear. He saw her hand freeze as her brow crinkled. She traced her hand over her ear and down the side of head, following the path of one of the braids he had done the night before.

"Hey. . ." she drawled. An amused smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. His hand came up to brace her hip as she climbed over him and off the bed. He watched with interest as she peered at her reflection in the mirror and took in her appearance. Ronon had enjoyed doing her hair the night before, but she had fallen asleep shortly before he had completed the style. Now he was surprised to find himself a bit nervous as to what her reaction would be upon seeing what he had done.

"Wow," she was saying now, to his relief. She didn't appear to be on the verge of tears again, so Ronon took that as a good sign.

Jennifer spared a glance in his direction, a bright smile illuminating her features. "It's like, little French braids . . ." she trailed off as she turned her head to the side to better inspect his handiwork. She gingerly touched the back of her head where he had intertwined the five 'French braids' and twisted them around at the nape of her neck. "Oh cool . . . they're, like, in a little bun in the back."

Ronon swung his legs over the side of t he bed and onto the floor to face her Jennifer as she sauntered over to stand before him. He found the series of movements incredibly sensual

"So," she began, a smile still on her lips. "What's the story with you and hairstyling? _Spill_." She playfully nudged his right shoulder, her fingertips ever cool.

He caught her hand before she could pull it back, taking the opportunity to brush his lips against the smooth skin of the inside of her wrist while he considered his reply. He took great pleasure in the flush that spread across Jennifer's face.

"My mother," he answered.

Ronon explained further as Jennifer's brows lifting in obvious fascination. "She used to do the hair of a lot of the girls in my village. I used to sit and watch her." He shrugged. "I guess she saw I noticed, and she taught me how. I got pretty good."

"That you did," Jennifer breathed, brushing her hands over her braids in wonder, and more than little appreciation. "I love it."

Ronon felt heat rising in his cheeks now.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer was nervous.

_No,_ she thought. 'Concerned' might be a better word to describe how she was feeling._ Definitely concerned. Not scared or terrified_._ Not yet, anyway._

As she was leaving the mess after breakfast that morning, Jennifer had run into Colonel Carter. Thinking on it now, it seemed more like the older woman had approached her, almost like she had even been looking for Jennifer specifically.

"_Dr. Keller," Col. Carter greeted with a nod and a smile. "How are you this morning."_

What does she mean "how am I?" Do I look sick . . . am I showing that much. . .does she _know? The thoughts rushed through Jennifer mind before as she tried to think of an appropriate response. "Oh, hi Col. I'm fine, and you?"_

_Jennifer could not understand why she felt as if she was being accused of something. Col. Carter was only being polite, yet she felt like she was being interrogated by the woman's simple inquiry._

"_I'm good," Carter replied. "Wow. . . your hair. It looks really nice. Very becoming."_

"_Oh?" Jennifer reached up to touch her hair before remembering how it looked, the braids Ronon had done the night before."Oh yeah. Thank you." _Ronon, did it_, she almost said. But she held off, because it seems like too intimate a detail to share, a special moment that she wanted to keep between them for now._

_Jennifer watched as the other woman her tapped her fingers the laptop she was holding. "So," she interjected. "Your shift in the infirmary doesn't begin until later this afternoon."_

"_Yes, that's right. At two," Jennifer confirmed._

"_Well, if you have some free time before then, I'd like you to stop by my office." Carter's blue eyes met Jennifer's as she waited for the young doctor's reply._

Oh, God_. "Ok. I can stop by in half an hour, if that's alright."_

"_Sounds good," Carter said. "I'll see you then."_

Now Jennifer felt as if she was back in school, standing outside the office of the principal. Through the glass walls she could see Carter sitting at her desk, and Jennifer wondered at her chances of running away without being seen, but then the blond woman looked up and smiled, beckoning her to come in. And then Jennifer felt incredibly stupid for her moment of trepidation.

Somehow Jennifer's feet had carried her to the other side of the glass partition, and she had taken a seat in the chair opposite Carter's desk.

Sam was speaking, but Jennifer was having a hard time following her words. She asked how things were going in the infirmary, how the new additions to the medical personnel were fairing. Jennifer was pretty sure she managed coherent responses, for Carter would smile and nod and move on to the next thing.

Then she paused, and that caught Jennifer's attention. She saw concern in Carter's eyes and the pursing of her lips. "Jennifer, are you alright?"

"Yeah. I mean, _yes_, I'm fine." Jennifer didn't realize she had slumped down in the chair until she sat up straighter, trying to give some semblance of professionalism. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you seem a little distracted at the moment, for one," Carter replied with a knowing smile.

"Oh. . ." Jennifer began to fidget with her fingers and then stopped, entwining them and placing them neatly in her lap. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately."

Col. Cater looked at Jennifer expectantly, as if she wished for her to explain more. Jennifer however, chose not to elaborate and just stared on as an increasingly uncomfortable silence filled the room.

Carter finally sighed. "Okaaay." Abruptly, she rose from behind her desk and nodded to Jennifer. "You mind joining me for some fresh air?"

"Uhm, ok. Sure." Jennifer rose as well and followed the woman out onto the balcony adjacent to the office.

As Jennifer followed Sam out onto the balcony, she was immediately soothed by the cool burst of fresh air against her face. She breathed in deeply and for a moment closed her eyes as she savored the light saltiness distinctive of ocean air.

"It really is beautiful out here," Jennifer exhaled as she came walked over to the railing.

"Yes," Carter agreed. "With all that going on in the city, the Replicators and the Wraith, we tend to forget what amazing beauty this galaxy actually has to offer."

Jennifer simply nodded as she looked out onto the expanse of the city below. She had definitely been taking the Pegasus experience for granted lately. It wasn't like she could blame anyone though. The last few months had been particularly stressful, and now with everything going on with Ronon. . .

"Is something going on that you'd like to talk about?" Carter's voice brought her out of her musing.

Jennifer turned to look at the woman as she continued. "Between you and Ronon, possibly?"

She wanted to say something, anything, to allay the her superior's concerns, but all Jennifer could manage was a wide-eyed expression. She was pretty certain her face was growing red as well.

"Look, normally I wouldn't ask about your personal life. But the past few weeks I've noticed something changes. I've seen from the logs that you've been taking a lot of days off in the infirmary." She sighed and it seemed to Jennifer that Carter was having as hard a time saying the words as Jennifer was having hearing them. She figured Carter took her continued silence and lack of denial as evidence that she was on the right track with her suspicions.

"I didn't want to say anything. At first I sensed a bit of awkwardness between you two after you came back from Ferra. I realize it was quite an ordeal for you, and maybe I should have been more direct in suggesting that you . . . talk to someone about it then."

_Oh great._ "It's . . . I don't have post-traumatic stress," Jennifer managed to say.

"That may be true," Carter allowed. "But there _is_ something going on?"

"Yes." Jennifer leaned into the railing, chewing the inside of her cheek in an effort to stifle the words that were fighting to bubble forth.

"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, but it's obvious you need to tell someone. I can't have my Chief of Medicine breaking down because she's overworked and stressed, no matter what the cause."

"I'm pregnant," Jennifer felt as if the words exploded from her mouth, though it came out as barely a whisper. Jennifer forced herself to look up into Carter's eyes which were now wide with shock. "It's Ronon's. Well, _they're_ Ronon's. It's twins." The words rushed from Jennifer now, as she answered what she felt was the next obvious question.

Jennifer wished that she could blame the tears stinging her eyes on the biting, salty wind. For weeks she had tried to steel herself for the inevitability of this moment. She knew she would have to tell Carter eventually. She thought she was fine with it, with the idea. Yet now, waiting for some sort of response from the woman was proving unbearable. It was too much.

And then she felt a hand gently reston her forearm as it draped over the railing. Her view of the city's spires had blurred under the unshed she had yet to blink away. She looked back to Carter to see that her face now betrayed nothing but warmth and understanding.

For the first time in weeks, Jennifer felt a little less unsure.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Once in the seclusion of her quarters, Jennifer allowed herself to breath for the first time in what seemed like hours. Her little meeting with Col. Carter—_Sam_—had gone better than she had hoped. Ultimately, Jennifer was relieved to find that she wasn't fired. Not that she had expected the Carter to respond particularly rash to the news of her condition—her pregnancy—but, Jennifer couldn't recall what exactly she had expected to happen. However none of the scenarios she could think up ended well for her—or Ronon—and she was pretty certain that she would have been packing her bags right now.

But she wasn't.

She didn't have to, at least, not for a while.

Jennifer was a bit disappointed with herself for thinking that Carter would respond any other way than she had—with genuine compassion and words of reassurance. _Sam was awesome_.

Jennifer giggled to herself, shaking her head. She felt more than a little giddy now having been relieved of the burdensome worry that had plagued her for weeks.

She slid into her desk chair and moved the mouse to deactivate the screensaver on her laptop. "Three new emails. . ." she mumbled as she clicked the icon to open the mail program. One of the emails pertaining to her administrative duties in the infirmary. Another one was from Marc; apparently he'd made some more headway in identifying the compounds in the Ferran cocktail. The last new message was from—

"Aunt Joanna. . .?" Hoping to allay her confusion, Jennifer clicked the message and began reading.

She didn't get very far before she started to cry.

_TBC._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Sorry (kind of) for the horrible cliffhanger, but it had to be done, really. This was a really pivotal chapter as far as shifting the action of the story, so I hope you guy like it. I'm fairly confident the rest of the story will flow much quicker now (hoping, anyway). Let me know what you think.

Yes, Sheppard is still in the dark. I'm holding out as long as possible on that one.

Yes, I _so_ named the character after you. :)

Thanks **journeyman07** for being a great alpha (someone who helps the story along as it's being written).


	6. Chapter 5

**TITLE:** Back Home – Pt. 5  
**AUTHOR:** renisanz  
**SUMMARY:** Settling down won't be easy for either of them. A sequel to "Making Up the Past." Ronon/Keller  
**RATING:** PG-13  
**WORDS:** 2,219  
**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.  
**NOTES:** Spoilers for "Midway."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ronon had just come to get Jennifer for lunch. He really needed to talk to her.

Sheppard had informed him about a mandatory interview he was expected to attend with the IOA. He had tried to relay the information in a casual way, but that alone alerted Ronon to how serious the matter was. Maybe then would have been a good time to tell his friend and team leader about his situation with Jennifer, but the moment quickly passed as a few Marines arrived a bit early for the morning training session.

When the door to her quarters finally opened, he barely had a chance to take in Jennifer's reddened face and puffy eyes before she'd practically thrown herself into him after he'd stepped into the room. Her arms laced tightly around his waist and his natural response was to bring his arms around her even as she buried her face in his chest. Ronon's mind traveled back to what had occurred that morning, with Jennifer visibly upset for no particular reason. _What had she called it?_

"Uh . . . hormones?" he guessed, hoping to alleviate the feeling of dread that was snaking around his heart, slowly tightening as Jennifer's arms did around him now.

Jennifer sniffled and her voice finally broke in a choked, wet laughter, and Ronon felt relief for a brief moment before she shook her head.

In response, Ronon brought one hand up from its place on her back, up to her chin, and he tilted her head up to meet his worried eyes. "What's wrong, Jen?"

He watched as a fresh tear spilled onto her cheek. He wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and she leaned into his gentle touch.

"It's my dad," she said as she met his eyes. "He's. . . .he's. . . not well." She looked as if she was fighting the urge to explain more, maybe use more medical terms, but she settled on a simple, if, completely unsatisfying explanation.

"It's serious," Ronon stated. He knew Jennifer would not be this upset if it wasn't.

She nodded,at last stepping away from him, taking his hand. He followed the gentle tug of her hand as she led him over to sit down beside her on the bed.

"I hadn't heard from my dad in a few days. He usually emails me on Tuesdays, and I didn't think much of it when he didn't contact me this week. But then I got a message from my aunt Joanna, my dad's sister. She's never emailed me here before, so I knew right then that something was wrong."

She paused, closing her eyes against a new stream of tears. Ronon wrapped his arm across her shoulders and then pulled her to him. He placed a soft kiss to her forehead, and he felt the tension in her body relax a little.

"Aunt Joanna was rather vague on the explanation. Relaying medical terminology isn't her thing," Jennifer said. She had regained some of her composure as she continued explaining the situation. "But, uhm . . . Dad basically had a heart attack."

Ronon was familiar with that term. Rodney often used it when he complained about overexerting himself when they were out in the field. A few days ago, he had heard Jennifer use the phrase as well.

_It was morning, but the sun had yet to rise. He was pretty sure Jen thought he had been sleeping, so he didn't open his eyes as she carefully shifted away from him to lay on her back. Curious, he peeked over at her through the slit of one eye. He watched as her hand traced the growing curve of her abdomen. He watched as a fond smile bowed her lips for a fleeting moment only to be replaced by an expression of uncertainty as her brow creased in what looked to be concern. "My dad is so going to have a heart attack," Ronon heard her whisper after he had closed his eyes._

"My aunt tried to assure me that he was fine. He's resting comfortably in the hospital." Jennifer paused to brush an errant tendril of hair behind her ear.

"So, he's gonna be ok?" Ronon asked. When Jennifer first revealed her distressed state had something to do with her father, he had immediately assumed the worst—that her father had died. Ronon knew that Jennifer had lost her mother a few years earlier, and she seemed to have a very close relationship with her father that had only strengthened after her mother's death. Even now, Ronon carried with him the loss of his entire world at the hands of the Wraith. Everyone and everything he had loved had perished, still he didn't imagine Jennifer's pain for her mother was any less than that he felt over Sateda.

"I'd like to say 'yes,' but I really can't say," Jennifer admitted. "Aunt Joanna said that the doctors treating my father indicated to her that the myocardial infarction was merely a symptom of. . . I mean, that his heart attack was caused by a more serious problem—not just the usual clogged artery—a problem that may require major surgery. That's why she contacted me."

She turned to face Ronon. "I have to go be with him." She sighed, looking away. "I have to see him, despite the fact that. . . that the shock of seeing me like this . . ." she rubbed her hand across her stomach absently, "in this _condition_, is exactly what he _doesn't_ need right now."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer had informed Col. Carter of her father's condition and her request to return to earth was granted. Sam told Jennifer that Teyla would be leaving in two days to attend her interview with the IOA, and then she and Jennifer could go through the Intergalactic Gate Bridge at the same time in order to conserve energy.

She told all this to Ronon that evening over dinner. Ronon had actually made them a little picnic out on the balcony, in an effort to cheer her up, and Jennifer was glad her hormones decided to cooperate and not overwhelm her with a crying at his consideration. She could simply enjoy the moment with this wonderful, searingly handsome person who didn't mind being her leg rest as they both reclined against the pillows he had arranged about.

"So there's no way you can leave sooner," Ronon asked her now.

Jennifer had wondered that herself at first, but then reason took over. "No. I mean, I'd like to, but my father is stable for now. Also, his heart needs time to heal a bit before any more stress on his system with the proposed surgery." Ronon was distracting her train of thought with the way his fingers grazed the bare skin of her legs, but she wasn't about to tell him to stop. "Besides," she went on, "If things took a turn for the worse it could very well be while I'm in the twenty-four hour quarantine on Midway. Either way, I wouldn't be able to do anything for him, so I just have to be patient."

Jennifer sighed and leaned against the pillows as popped a cube of cheese in her mouth.

"So. . . ," she began, wanting to think of other things. "You told Col. Sheppard yet?"

"Told him what?" Ronon responded nonchalantly as he reached over to get a cracker and then scoop some dip with it.

"_You know_," she gestured. "About us. . . the little ones on the way?"

He put the chip in his mouth and gave Jennifer a unreadable look as he chewed.

Jennifer just waited for him to answer, with what she hoped was an expectant, though not challenging expression.

He swallowed, then looked away from her and back to the food in front of him. "Not really."

Jennifer wasn't really surprised and was about to ask him 'why' when Ronon said, "You haven't told your father." Jennifer felt her gut tighten under Ronon's measuring gaze now. She fought to maintain eye contact with him as her cheeks flushed in the indignity of the situation.

"It's. . . that's not the same thing," she stammered.

"I'm not trying to fight with you, Jen," Ronon said calmly.

_You're not?_ Jennifer almost said, though she was pretty sure the sentiment was written on her face. In her mind she knew that Ronon would never purposely initiate an argument with her, and especially during a stressful time as this. Still she felt unjustifiably angry at him for his words about not telling her father about their relationship . . . even though they were true—especially because they were true.

"I was _going_ to tell him. It's just not that easy. I. . . ," tears stung her eyes as she tried to figure out a way to explain her hesitance to Ronon. "I really don't need to fall to pieces right now," she turned away from him and wiped at her eyes.

She turned back to him in surprise when she felt him pulling on her legs, sliding her body practically into his lap. She met his hazel eyes as he continued. "I understand. You and your father are very close. You don't want to tell him because you think he'll be disappointed that you're pregnant and not bonded to anyone. Right?"

For a moment Jen just blinked up at him, speechless. Ever since she had first revealed her pregnancy to Ronon, Jennifer made a point not to mention the prospect of marriage. Ronon had never said anything to indicate he was against it, yet Jennifer didn't want to rush into such a serious. commitment with someone she was just beginning to get to know. Or maybe she had tried to convince herself that having children with this man was a commitment enough, and Ronon had promised to be there for her. Still, Jennifer couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing from all this.

Ronon was sat quietly regarding her, waiting for a response. "Well. . . yeah. I mean, I guess. You make it sound a lot less complicated."

"Do I?" Ronon countered, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

"No, not really. I mean, you're right. I do need to tell him. I was meaning to write to him today, but then I got the note from Aunt Jo, and well . . . you know the rest. I feel so horrible that I didn't have the courage to tell Dad, before now. God, It's just . . . I mean, everything happened so fast. At some point I imagined you may come home with me to meet him, or what it would be like, if things progressed that far between us. . ."

"Really?" Ronon seemed genuinely surprised at her confession.

"Yeah," Jennifer nodded as she smiled. "I think every girl does secretly. If she doesn't think about it then that's another kind of relationship entirely," she smirked, glad to have some levity in their conversation.

"So you _do_ want me to meet your father?" Ronon asked. _Ah_, she thought. _Had he been trying to get around to this all along?_

"Well . . ." Jennifer realized this was not the question to sound uncertain with her answer. "Yes. I do," she resolved.

"Ok, then," he said, smiling as he leaned over to kiss her.

Jennifer returned his affections for a moment before a thought tickled the back of her mind. She turned her face away from him, and was amused and more than a little excited as Ronon brushed his lips against her jaw before kissing the side of her neck. She had to push him away before she lost her train of thought completely.

"'Ok' what?" she prodded.

Ronon released a heavy sigh as he regarded her. He teased her lips with a kiss once more before replying. "Ok, I'll come meet your father."

"You mean . . . ?" Jennifer wanted to be sure she understood _exactly_ what he was saying.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Go with you and Teyla to Earth. My interview's after hers anyway." Ronon shrugged, leaning away from her now, studying her.

He'd presented the situation so casually, almost Sheppard-like. She realized that though he didn't say it, Ronon probably figured it was important to meet her father as soon as possible, considering the older man's current health. She also knew that, sick or not, once her father saw her, he would want to meet the man who had contributed to her condition. That was a given.

Of course, this would all have to be cleared with Col. Carter first, but Jennifer didn't foresee any problems there. Sam was cool.

"Ok," Jennifer agreed. She didn't miss the shadow of a smile that twitched Ronon's features.

"Ok?" Ronon questioned. This was her last chance to back out. Jennifer knew it.

"Yes, ok," she nudged her shoulder against his as she laid back onto the pillows. She turned her body toward his and wrapped her arm around his torso as she leaned up to press her lips to delicate skin just below the tattoo on his neck.

She felt him nuzzle the top of her head, and the hairs of his goatee tickled her forehead as his arms circled her body and drew her closer. "Mmm, love you," he murmured.

"I love you too," she sighed. Her head rested comfortably against his broad chest, and she let the sound of his strong, steady heart beat sooth her for the moment.

TBC.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: I was totally stressin' about how to fit this story around the events of "Midway." Finally, I was struck with the revelation that, duh, this was fiction, so I could change the events of the episode around to fit my story. So, that's what I did.

Crits & comments are always appreciated.

Thanks to **journeyman07** for betaing. :)


	7. Chapter 6

**TITLE:** Back Home – Pt. 6  
**AUTHOR:** renisanz  
**SUMMARY:** Settling down won't be easy for either of them. A sequel to "Making Up the Past." Ronon/Keller  
**RATING:** PG-13  
**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.  
**NOTES:** Surprisingly, no spoilers in this chapter. Although, it does help it you've seen "The Return, Pt. 1" and "Sunday" for reference of Sheppard's quarters and Ronon and John hanging out there.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Hey, John," Ronon peaked his head into John Sheppard's open doorway to see the man reclined on his bed with one leg hanging off the side of the mattress, his foot touching the floor. He wore a set of headphones and seemed to be very engaged in whatever he was reading in a book called—Ronon squinted to read the Earth language written across the portrait of a very attractive woman wearing a very revealing, form-fitting outfit—_F H M._

He waited for Sheppard to look up before asking, "You got a minute?"

Dark brows lifted over curious green eyes as John sat up straighter on the bed. "Sure. I was just reading up on, uh. . ." John glanced back to the pages of the magazine before laying on his bedside table, "current events."

Ronon raised a dubious eyebrow at John, moving from his spot in the doorway into the room, settling into a chair across from the bed.

"So," John grunted a bit as he sat up fully, swing his other leg onto the floor as he came to face Ronon. "What's on your mind, big guy?"

_Damn. This was gonna be hard_. Ronon had actually gone over what he was going to say many times in his mind (too few, it seemed now), but now that he was sitting here in front of his comrade and friend, green eyes looking expectantly into his face, he felt suddenly, inexplicably anxious. Nervous.

"I'm going to earth with Teyla and Jennifer tomorrow." He figured it best to start with something simple.

Sheppard merely nodded. "Yeah, I heard. Your interview's not for a few more days. You planning on doing some sightseeing?" Sheppard looked away now, pulling a bag of Bugles from behind him.

"Something like that," Ronon responded, as he eyed the back of snacks. John held the open end of the bag out to Ronon, who proceed to take a handful. "Thanks," he mumbled around a mouthful of salty goodness. _Earth foods were awesome._

"Yeah. I don't know why I never remember _not_ to offer you food that I actually want to have some of left over for myself," Sheppard stated, looking regretfully into the nearly empty bag.

Ronon smirked at his friend. Though he loved to raid John's snack rations, that wasn't the purpose of this particular visit. "I'm going home with Jennifer to meet her father."

"S'that right?" Sheppard eyebrows lifted and the tone of his voice feigned amusement, but his eyes betrayed no genuine surprise.

"Yeah," Ronon answered. He hated asking for advice. Ronon acknowledged that John had been right about the importance of taking time to get to know a woman and find out what she liked. They had just had different ideas about appropriate ways to go about it. In the end, Ronon was glad that his series of non-accidental injuries resulting in trips the infirmary for no less than stitches had proved fruitful in the end. John, however, still thought he was crazy.

"Meeting the father's a big step. I guess you guys are pretty serious after all."

"I told you we were," Ronon countered, leaning forward in his chair.

"Yeah, you did. But, ya know, sometimes these things don't work out," John shrugged. Ronon was rather certain that John was referring to whatever had happened to cause the breakup of his marriage.

Nevertheless, Ronon understood what John meant. He and Jennifer were from different worlds, literally and figuratively. She was a healer. He was a trained killer. It was her job to mend the ones that people like him had broken. But in her, he had found something better in himself. She accepted him for who he was, yet made him want to be more for her, if only because it was what she deserved.

"Well, it's working out," Ronon said, finally.

"That's good to hear. I'm really happy for you, Ronon."

Ronon couldn't help but smile at John's words. "Thanks."

"So. . . is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"No." Ronon looked down at his hands. He looked up into John's patient gaze. "I wanted to know about your bonding rituals on Earth."

"'Bonding rituals'? Whoah. . . you're talking about _marriage_, right?" John was obviously taken off guard as he realized what Ronon was asking for him to explain.

Ronon nodded.

"Well, they vary. . . I mean. . . " Sheppard looked away as if in concentration. Then he looked back to Ronon, his eyes intensely serious. "Tell me one thing first."

"Ok."

"How far along is she?"

It wasn't at all the question Ronon expected, but really, he wasn't terribly surprised, and a little relieved that it had been asked. So he answered, "About two and a half months, now."

Sheppard looked surprised now. "Wait. . .What the hell happened to her wanting to 'take things slow'? Isn't that about how long you guys have been together, or did I miss something more than I thought? "

"Nah, that's about right," Ronon took unusual interest in the cover of a nearby sudoku book as he scratched the sudden itch above his brow. "So, uh. . . when did you figure out that Jen was. . .?"

"Not as soon as I'd like," he responded hastily. "Actually, I'm pretty pissed that I had to_ f_igure it out on my own in the first place." His voice lowered, "as if Teyla wasn't enough."

Ronon decided it was wise not to respond to that last statement.

John got up abruptly and walked over the the small refrigerator in the corner of his room. He got out two bottles of beer, and turning one toward Ronon, who declined. If Ronon was going to drink, he definitely wanted something stronger than the decidedly mild beverage the 'Lanteans seemed so fond of drinking. Sheppard shrugged and got both out anyway.

Ronon eyes followed John as he uncapped the drink and then strolled back over to the bed. John had settled back into his seat on the edge of the bed, and Ronon waited until his friend began taking a long drink of the beer before he spoke again.

"So, uh. . . she's pregnant with twins."

Ronon failed to keep a straight face as he saw John jerk and choke before spraying beer halfway across the room.

Sheppard coughed and blinked at him with watery eyes. "You really don't know how to hold back from anything, do you?"

Ronon thoughts went to Jennifer then. He remembered their many afternoon naps, the softness of her body as she curled against him, the intoxicating scent of her hair as her head lay against his chest. She had no idea how incredibly sensual he found the soft sigh that escaped her lips whenever she settled against him. He couldn't tell her that while her presence calmed him, her gentle kisses at times nearly drove him insane with desire. . .

"Sometimes." Yes. Ronon knew very much of what it meant to hold back, to reign in his emotions and primal urges, and it was always when he was with Jennifer.

John merely nodded at Ronon's simple, yet, decidedly loaded response to his rhetorical question.

After a moment, John leaned back, rubbing his hands together. "Ok, so. . . you want to know about Earth bonding rituals," Sheppard paused to raise an uncertain eyebrow as he glanced over at Ronon. "You know, maybe I'm not the best person you should be asking about this."

Ronon chuckled, knowing John was referring to his failed marriage. "Well, it was either you. . . or McKay."

"Ah. Yeah. Good point," John conceded.

Ronon listened with rapt attention as he learned from his friend the ways in which he could prepare to formally propose marriage to Dr. Jennifer Keller.

TBC.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Well, I'm extremely glad and relieved to finally have _that scene_ over with.

Credit goes to **tielan** for inspiration on Sheppard's choice of reading material. It seems that she had great ideas even when she's fighting boredom. Thanks to my beta **journeyman07** for letting me know my jokes weren't completely stupid (only mostly stupid). :)


	8. Chapter 7

TITLE: Back Home – Pt. 7

NOTES: No spoilers for any episode in particular. Events of this chapter occur before around the same time as "Midway", but I'm changing things around a bit.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The twenty-four hours spent in quarantine on the Midway Station was thankfully uneventful. Their passage through Stargate Command was rather pedestrian as well. To Jennifer's surprise, no one seemed too phased by the idea of Ronon coming home with her. She suspected Col. Carter may have had a hand in the reaction, or lack thereof.

Jennifer had left Teyla to get settled into her assigned guest quarters at SGC, and then waited for Ronon to get changed for their trip to her hometown. Her heart stopped when she first caught sight of him strolling down the corridor to meet her. She could kiss whoever had chosen his Earth attire, as the clothing did nothing but compliment his strong physique. He wore a dark grey, long sleeved knit shirt. The sleeves were pushed up to show his forearms and tribal tattoo. His dark rinse jeans fit perfectly as well, but he wore the clothes, rather than them wearing him.

He had a uncertain look on his face as he came to stand before her. Jennifer allowed herself to blink for the first time since she saw him.

"What is it?"

"What?" She tore her eyes away from his body to look into his face. He looked. . .uncertain?

"These clothes?" He prodded.

Jennifer laughed. _Was he serious?_ Then she realized that he'd taken her look of shock in a negative way. "You look, uhm. . . really good." _Oh, that was so lame_, she chided. She thought it funny her extensive vocabulary went out the window when presented with the challenge of summing up the man's sheer attractiveness. She smiled up at him, though. "We're definitely going to have to get you more of those shirts when we get to Chippewa Falls."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was when Jennifer and Ronon were riding in the back of a cab on their way to the airport that things began to fray a bit.

"Ronon, you can't take these on the plane," Jennifer stated.

"Why not? They're hidden," Ronon shrugged, no hint of humor in his voice.

"They have machines called _metal detectors_ to keep people from bringing weapons on the plane," she explained. As she turned the long thin blade between her fingers, she felt Ronon's gaze and turned to meet his eyes.

"I know," he said, his eyes sparkling with some mischief. "It's not made of metal."

"_Really,_" Jen lifted an eyebrow in a mixture of doubt and surprise.

Ronon leaned forward, his face only a breath away from hers, and her cheeks flushed involuntarily at the proximity and heat of him. She was still undecided as to whether she loved or hated that he had such an effect on her.

"Really," he breathed, before pressing a teasing kiss to her lips. "John told me about it a while ago," he smirked.

Jennifer was sure her face was fully red now. She opened her eyes to see him smirking down at her.

Jennifer rolled her eyes and huffed as she leaned back against his arm that was draped across the back seat and around her shoulders. She let her eyes be consumed with the uninteresting texture of the car ceiling as she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. She twirled the blade in her fingers, as the action soothed her.

"You're pretty good at that." Ronon rumbled. His voice startled her as it broke the brief moment of silence between them. Though she was a self-proclaimed klutz, she didn't drop the blade. Instead, Jennifer caught it between her thumb and index finger and then flipped it between her index and middle finger before handing it out to him.

"Yeah," she said, suddenly self-conscious. "Guess I'm used to handling something similar. Scalpels," she supplied.

"Uh-huh," Ronon eyed her suspiciously as he gingerly took the blade from her fingers.

"What?" Jennifer prodded, leaning away to regard him.

"You don't twirl them when you're doing surgery . . .?" He looked doubtful, but his eyes twinkled.

"No!" Jennifer giggled. "I just. . ." She thought back to when she first discovered her. . . talent. "Back when I was an undergrad, I was dissecting a fetal pig in Biology I lab. I was going over my notes, and I picked up the scalpel instead of my pencil, and started twirling it like normal." She smiled at the memory. "It freaked out my lab partner, but it just became a habit."

She watched as Ronon imitated the action she was describing. "It's hard to explain. It's thrilling and calming at the same time, ya know?"

"Yeah," he agreed. The corner of his mouth curled as he looked from the blade and back to her, and then slid it back to its concealed place within his dreads.

"So. . . anything else you want to tell me?"

"Uhm. . ." Jennifer figured he was referring to her experience with sharp, lethal objects. Or just things that he might find surprising. They were still getting to know each other, after all. She thought back to her teen years in Chippewa Falls, weekends spent out on the firing range with Dad. It had been a secret up until now. It wasn't even in her personnel file, as she wasn't military and still had yet to have any formal weapons training. The handling of firearms wasn't what she had been hired for, and she reasoned that if no one knew of her skill, she could avoid anyone having to depend on her to use it.

"I'm a pretty good shot," she let her eyes flick to Ronon as she began to pick to at her nails. Ok, she still wasn't being completely honest. "Actually, I'm a _really_ good shot," she amended, turning to face him now.

Jennifer would have laughed at Ronon's expression if it weren't so serious. At first his eyes widened and his lips parted like he wanted to ask her more, but couldn't decide what to say. After a moment, however, he simply nodded and said, "You'll show me?"

There was a touch of humility in his tone, and Jen was heartened by the fact that Ronon simply believed her, without demanding a demonstration of her abilities like most other men would.

She smiled. "Well, you'll have to wait about seven months, but sure."

"Ok. Cool." He beamed, as if he was truly looking forward to it.

She spared a glance in the rearview mirror to see the driver's eyes trained on the highway ahead. If he thought this crazy, seemingly mismatched couple that was his current fare were insane, as they twirled knives like it was no big thing, he didn't show it. Thank goodness for the partition.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Sir, could you step out of line please."

Jennifer felt Ronon tense behind her, and she turned to see an officious looking man wearing a plain black suit. _This was not happening_. They had gone through the metal detectors without incident, and now they were standing in line, waiting to board the flight to Eau Claire, Wisconsin.

"Why?" Ronon asked, as he took in the man before him. He was shorter than him, but not small by any means. He was flanked by two other men who wore similar attire but seemed to be there only for intimidation purposes. Obviously they didn't know who they were dealing with.

"Please step out of line and come with us, sir," The main repeated.

"Wait," Jennifer stepped forward, placing a placating hand on Ronon's arm as she did so. "What's this about?"

She glanced around to see the people beside them in line taking notice of the situation. Jennifer wanted to avoid a scene at all costs, but she knew that Ronon was not the type of person to go quietly. And she was pretty sure he wasn't about to leave her alone, either.

"Ma'am, this doesn't concern you," the man said. His dismissive tone struck the wrong tone with Jennifer. All she wanted to do was board the flight and get home so she could finally see her father.

"It's standard procedure to pull random people and check their stories."

"You're serious." Jennifer said. "You just happened to pick him out at _random_?" Jennifer's voice was challenging, but for some reason she didn't care. Later, she would chalk it all up to stress and hormones.

The man seemed to sense what Jennifer was implying, but didn't address it verbally. "Ma'am, are you with him?"

"Yes. I am."

"Ok, you can both come with us," he moved to grab Jennifer's arm to direct her out of the line.

That was a mistake.

There was a flash of movement to her right, and then she heard a sickening crack, a cry of pain, and then people were gasping and screaming. In shock, Jennifer stumbled backwards and tripped over her carry-on bag, landing hard on her butt.

When everything stopped spinning, she looked up to see Ronon crouched down with his back to her, his hands raised in surrender. She looked past him to see the two "agents" with their guns trained on him. She really wished she had hit her head and been knocked unconscious on the way to the floor, because it would explain how she had awakened to a reality that was a cross between _The Matrix_ and _The Bourne Identity_.

Ronon Dex was a lot of amazing things, but bulletproof wasn't one of them.

She looked down and slightly to her left to see the agent who'd done all talking the crouched down, cradling his right arm against his body. _Oh, God_. Ronon had more than likely broken the man's wrist. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as she was suddenly overcome with a wave of nausea. _This was so not happening._

"Hey, just take it easy," Ronon was saying.

"You broke my wrist!" the man shrieked.

She opened her eyes, and the scene was still the same. Ronon looked back at Jen, a strange mix of frustration and remorse crossing his features, "Are you ok?" he asked, pulling her up as he kept himself between her and the agents.

Slowly, Jen rolled onto her knees. She didn't want to make any sudden movements. She had no idea how trigger-happy these men were. "Can everyone just calm down," she said. She met Ronon's eyes. "I'm fine. _Really_," she stressed. "I. . .I'm pregnant," she said to the men in an effort to explain the Satedan's extreme reaction.

All three men turned their heads to her, their eyes full of shock, and then, understanding. Even the guy with the maimed wrist looked a little regretful. Jennifer would have laughed if there weren't still creating a spectacle being held at gun point by air port security with people cowering about. Nevertheless, the men lowered their weapons. Jennifer nearly collapsed with relief, exhaling a long breath.

She allowed Ronon to pull her up, but glared at him all the same.

"What?" he asked.

"You don't think that was a bit unnecessary?" she whispered, as she tried to rub the soreness from her bum.

Ronon opened his mouth and then closed it again. Obviously, he hadn't anticipated her falling in the commotion, and she could tell that he was beginning to regret his rash reaction. "Maybe," he grunted. "He shouldn't have tried to grab you. Sorry," he said finally.

"It's fine," Jennifer sighed. She brushed a hand over her abdomen.

The men gestured for the two of them to follow them. Jennifer started to pick up her carry-on, but Ronon stopped her and slung it over his shoulder before turning to follow the men. Jennifer followed as well, her fingers threaded through Ronon's, but once they were away from the crowds and about to be led down a corridor, she stopped. The agent looked back at her questioningly. "I need to see some ID or something," she stated, crossing her arms defensively.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. This is a huge misunderstanding," one of the agents who'd had the gun explained. He reached in his jacket and produced a badge. He flipped it open, and Jennifer saw that they were with the NSA.

"I'll bet," Jennifer mumbled. "So, are you going to tell us what this is all about, because I really need to get home to my ailing father and tell him about his unborn grandchildren, ya know, sometime today?" she seethed.

The man looked truly apologetic, but she didn't care. And her butt hurt where she'd fallen on it earlier. She was pretty sure there was going to be a nasty bruise. Which was a perfect thing to have when you're gonna be sitting down for five hours on a airplane.

Seconds later, woman appeared from around the corner of the hallway, walking briskly towards the group. She was attractive despite her stern expression, with olive skin and dark brown hair pulled severely away from her face. Taller than average with an athletic build, she wore a tailored black suit and high heeled shoes Jennifer would kill to be able to pull off, and, if Jennifer accurately gauged the nervous looks traded between the agents, this woman appeared to be their superior.

"Myers," she was speaking to the man with the broken wrist, "what in the world did you do? You were asked to _detain_ them, not nearly kill them!"

The men exchanged embarrassed glances. The didn't exactly cower in the woman's presence, but it was close enough.

"Williams, could you escort Myers to the infirmary. I'm certain that's not just a sprain he's got," the woman smirked.

"Yes, Ma'am," Williams nodded.

Then she turned her attention to Jennifer, genuine concern in her eyes. "Are you alright, Dr. Keller?"

"Yes. . .I'm fine—," Jennifer answered while she wondered how the woman knew her name.

"Who are _you_?" Ronon interjected.

"Agent Ana Ramirez, NSA," the woman nodded as she held up her badge for their inspection. She wasn't discreet about the quick, appraising look she swept over Ronon's form, and Jennifer felt something tighten in her gut. "A thousand apologies for the inconvenience. There may have been a breakdown in the chain of command," She glared at the remaining agent behind them. "We have a coded message for Mr. Dex that he needed to receive before you departed."

"Why didn't your _boys_ just tell us that in the first place?" Jennifer asked.

"They were instructed to be discreet. However, I suppose they missed the lesson on why it's _not_ advisable to draw your weapons on an unarmed man in a crowd of civilians," Ramirez answered. At the very least, Jennifer was glad that the woman did not appear to condone the actions of her subordinates. She chose not to take issue with the woman describing Ronon as "unarmed."

They stopped in front of a private elevator and Ramirez swiped a key card to open the doors. "It should only take a few minutes, and you'll be out in time for your flight."

"Huh," Jennifer said. She jumped when she felt something vibrate against her hip. It was her cell phone. She fished it from pocket of her jeans and looked at the screen to see who was calling. She flipped it open as she stepped into the elevator.

"Hey, Aunt Jo. Is everything ok? Yeah, I'm fine. We—I'm at the air port," Ronon cocked a questioning brow at her but said nothing apart from rolling his eyes and adjusting her bag on his shoulder as he stepped into the car to stand beside her. Jennifer blushed and looked away from him. She had not told her Aunt Jo that she was bringing someone home with her.

"I'll be home later this evening, just got delayed a bit." _That's the understatement of the year_, she thought. She sighed as she listened to her aunt fill her in on the latest information about her father's condition.

Ramirez and the other agent stepped in the car, and the elevator doors slid shut.

Jen had a dreadful feeling that they weren't going to make their flight.

I would stand in line for this  
There's always room in life for this

Oh baby, oh baby  
Then it fell apart, it fell apart

—"Extreme Ways" by Moby

TBC.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: This story decided to take a crazy turn into left field. I just thought that it would be funny if Ronon got held up at the air port, and things just snowballed from there. Apparently my muse has been smoking crack. Thanks to **journeyman07** for being an excellent beta, as always. Thanks to **lizbet0** for doing an awesome job on her first time ßeta'ing. :)

As far as pregnant women handling firearms (particularly on a firing range). . .The little bit of info I could find on the topic suggests that it can be done with special precautions taken. However, the main concerns are exposing the unborn fetus to lead and loud noise.

Feedback is so much appreciated. :)


	9. Chapter 8

**TITLE:** Back Home – Pt. 8  
**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.  
**NOTES:** A slightly shorter chapter. Everyone takes a moment to breathe.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ronon Dex was not fond of cramped spaces. Whether trapped in a cocoon aboard a Wraith ship or a brief moment in transporter on Atlantis, he always got antsy when he was closed in. So as he rode in the elevator he focused on other things, like the fact that Jennifer still had not told her aunt that he was coming home with her. He knew that she was worried about her father's health, and he understood her hesitance about revealing her pregnancy. Even so, he felt she should have least _mentioned_ him by now.

Jennifer shifted beside him and he looked down at her to see sliding her cell phone back into the front pocket of her pants. She looked up at him with a nervous smile.

"Everything ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Dad's doing better, so Aunt Jo told him that I was on my way to see him." She hugged her arms around herself, avoiding Ronon's eyes.

"What is it?"

"My dad. . . He didn't really want me to come. He's stubborn like that," was all she said.

Ronon furrowed his brow. He wanted to ask her more, but picked up that this wasn't a conversation to have with certain other parties present.

The elevator stopped on the ground floor, and Agent Ramirez inserted a key and unlocked a panel below the floor numbers to reveal a key pad. She pressed a code in, and after a beep, the elevator continued its descent.

"Well, that's new," Jennifer mumbled.

Ramirez turned to Jennifer with a wry smile. "Ah. Our offices are located below the airport." The elevator stopped and the doors opened. "Follow me please," she said as she exited the car.

Ronon took Jennifer's hand so that she would walk out beside him. He quickly took in their surroundings. Directly in front of them was a reception desk manned by two men in black suits. On either side of the elevator doors stood two more men in suits, apparently on guard. Ronon didn't have to see their weapons to know that they were armed. He was beginning to regret that his gun was safely packed away in his luggage. These NSA people were supposed to be the good guys, but he'd learned that the lines separating friend from foe blurred quickly and too often. The tattooed skin on his left forearm itched at the thought.

They walked in silence as Ramirez led them down the grey-walled corridor. The click of the woman's high heels against the smooth floor tile was the only other prominent sound. Ronon doubted her shoes were designed for any practical purpose other than to accentuate her long legs and toned calves. However, he had come to realize that when it came to Earth women's dress, the prospect of looking good often won out over practicality.

Ronon put an end to his musings when Ramirez stopped to swipe her access card through the security panel and opened the door to a room at the end of the hall. "Mr. Dex, you'll find confidential materials on the laptop inside," Ramirez explained.

She turned to Jennifer. "Dr. Keller, would you like some refreshments while you wait. Coffee, tea, bagels . . .eh, Krispy Kreme?"

Jennifer perked up immediately at the last item. Ronon was unfamiliar with that Earth term, though he surmised from the context and Jennifer's reaction that it was food. "For real?" Jennifer gawked, and Ronon couldn't help but smile at the goofiness of her expression. It was a new one.

Agent Ramirez responded with a genuine smile. "Yes. '_For real,'_" she laughed. Ronon noted how much more youthful the woman looked as the mirth displayed at Jennifer's comment spread across her face and twinkled in her dark brown eyes. "I've got some stashed away in the break room."

Jennifer smiled even bigger. "Well, let's go." She squeezed Ronon's hand before releasing it, and he immediately regretted the loss of contact. "I'll be right back. You have fun with your 'confidential materials.' Try not to maim anyone while I'm gone."

He rolled his eyes, but replied, "Sure."

He entered the small room and watched as Ramirez began to close the door. "Agent Ross is going to be right outside the door, if you need anything further. You can meet us in the break room when you're done. It's just down the hall and to the left," she instructed.

She lowered her voice, "Don't worry. I'll make sure nothing happens to her," she winked.

Ronon was slightly taken aback by her honesty, but he appreciated the sentiment. He was glad that this woman sensed how important Jennifer was to him. He held her eye and nodded. There was something about this Ana Ramirez he liked. She reminded him of Teyla in a way, as the woman displayed a regal strength and keen intelligence that had obviously served her well working in the ranks of an organization that seemed to be dominated by men. If the events earlier were any indication, the agency was in sore need of more of her type.

He decided to take her at her word. He nodded to show his acceptance before turning to the laptop on the table before him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Here you are," Ana (she'd insisted Jennifer call her) said.

With a big smile of gratitude, Jennifer accepted the offering of the warm donut wrapped in a napkin. The woman had been kind enough to heat it up for Jen. She blew across the golden surface to cool it before taking a large bite. Her eyes fluttered closed as she savored the taste. "Oh. My. God," she mumbled around the mouthful of goodness, inhaling as the sweet taste triggered a heady sense of euphoria.

"Been a while?" Ana smirked.

Jennifer swallowed before responding. "You could say that. Where I work, Krispy Kreme donuts are extremely hard to come by."

"Ah," Ana nodded, but didn't press further. Jennifer supposed that Ana was used to people not being able to reveal the specifics about their work. They sat in silence as Ana watched Jennifer finish off two donuts.

"Wow," Jennifer said as she balled up her napkin. "It's sad to admit, but that was the best thing I've eaten in a while."

"I'll bet," Ana smiled. "Krispy Kreme did it for me when I was pregnant with my daughter."

"Oh. . .you have a daughter?" Jennifer blushed at the bluntness of her question. She didn't intend to sound so surprised at the information.

Ana took the question with grace and a bit of humor, though. "Yes." As proof, Ana took out her badge and opened it. From the space behind her ID, she pulled out a picture and handed it to Jennifer. "Micaela. She's eight, going on thirty."

"Oh dear," Jennifer laughed. She let her eyes rest on the portrait of the little girl with a mess of long dark curls. Her eyes stood out from the oval face. Her penetrating eyes shone above a Mona Lisa smile, like she had a great secret that she was perfectly content to keep all to herself.

"Indeed," Ana agreed. "She's just very precocious is all. Always wanting to know why things are the way they are."

"I can relate to that." Jennifer recalled her own days as a young girl wanting all the answers of the world at once. "Sorry to inform you, she'll probably never grow out of it."

"I don't expect her to, really," Ana admitted. "But if I could only get her to grasp why adults get to make the rules, things would go a lot smoother."

Jen smiled at the thought, toying with the edge of her balled up napkin as they fell into a comfortable silence.

"So. . .how far along are you?" Ana asked after a moment.

"Almost eleven weeks," Jennifer said quietly. In a moment of bravado, she reached into her pocket to retrieve her most recent ultrasound image. "See?" She bit her lip as she watched Ana take in the picture.

"Wait. . ." Ana's eyes narrowed, and then darted up to Jennifer's face at the realization of what she was seeing. "Twins?"

Jennifer nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh wow. And these are your first?"

"Yes. 'Wow' is right. I'm still trying to get over the shock myself," she mumbled.

"It will be fine," Ana stated with confidence Jennifer longed to feel about her situation. Still, it was good to hear someone else say it. "Ronon Dex seems to be. . ." she paused a moment as she considered her words. "I think he cares about you very much." At that Jennifer looked up to see nothing but seriousness in Ana's dark eyes.

Jennifer opened her mouth to question how Ana could tell such a thing in such a short time, but the woman seemed to perceive this and continued to explain.

"I was watching you two earlier on the security feed—it's how I knew things were going awry and came out to meet you. But I was able to observe the way he looked at you. He wasn't overly affectionate, but you definitely had his attention."

Jennifer didn't quite know what to say to that, or why Ana was being so forthright in telling her all of this. Maybe she perceived that deep down, Jennifer really needed to hear it. She'd been so wound up these past few weeks with the pregnancy and these agonizing few days worried about her father, and—now that she thought about it—Ronon had shown a unfathomable level of patience and understanding that she had yet to truly appreciate. Jennifer wondered if her current feelings of uncertainty were so plainly written in on her face.

"Hey," a familiar, deep voice said.

Jennifer looked to her left to see Ronon standing in the doorway and blushed.

TBC.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Sorry, you'll have to wait a bit longer to find out what was in that coded message. I didn't think it would be much of a point of interest, but it turns out some of you (the readers) are dying to know. Talk about pressure. So, with one part fluff and two parts character development, the story ekes on. Betas: **journeyman07** & **lizbet0**.

I really appreciate your continued reading and reviewing, as I find it very encouraging. :)


	10. Chapter 9

**TITLE:** Back Home – Pt. 9  
**AUTHOR:** renisanz  
**NOTES:** I beta'd this myself, so I apologize for any errors.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ronon slowed his steps as he heard the women's voices drifting down the hallway from the break room. They weren't talking any louder than normal, but his sensitive hearing could well distinguish what they were saying even though he was several feet down the hall.

"Ronon Dex seems to be. . .I think he cares about you very much." His ears perked at the mention of his name. He wasn't terribly surprised that they were talking about him. Still, the fondness laced in Ana Ramirez's words surprised him.

There was a pause, and he expected to hear Jennifer response, but the silence continued until Ramirez spoke again. "I was able to observe the way he looked at you. He wasn't overly affectionate, but you definitely had his attention."

Ronon really wished he could stand in the hall to hear more of their conversation. It would end once he entered the room. However, he and Jennifer still needed to make their flight, so he couldn't afford to delay any longer. Resolved, he dug his hands into the pocket of his jeans, barely suppressing a smirk as his fingers pressed against the small slip of paper where he had taken down a few notes from the coded message. He wished he could remember it all, but she had given him so many details.

Ana, who was sitting facing the doorway, looked up and nodded as he entered. Jennifer didn't seem to notice the woman's gesture, so Ronon said, "Hey."

Jennifer whirled round in her chair, her wide eyes meeting his as a vivid blush rose in her cheeks.

"Oh, hey," she said as she got up from the table. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's cool," Ronon said as Jennifer walked over to meet him. He definitely couldn't tell her the details of the message.

Jennifer looked as if she wanted to ask him more, but she simply nodded.

Ronon suddenly had the urge to hold her. So he reached, gently grabbing Jennifer's hand while taking pleasure in the loveliness of her confused expression. Still, she came to him, let him pull to him and wrap his arms around her slight, soft frame, breathe her in. He felt Jennifer's slim arms encircle his waist and then she sighed contentedly as she relaxed into him.

He could stay like this forever.

But they had to go.

With reluctance, Ronon stepped away from the embrace, but took ahold of Jennifer's hand, not ready to end the contact.

He and was a bit surprised to see Ana standing in the doorway. He'd barely noticed her move. A ghost of something twinkled in her eyes, and in an instant it was gone, replaced by a calm, neutral expression.

"I'll show see you two out. You've a flight to catch."

Ronon nodded and proceeded to follow Ana, but he felt a gentle tug of Jennifer's fingers laced in his. "Hey, Ana. . ."

"I'm sorry, could I . . ." Ronon followed Jennifer's gaze as she turned to look toward the table. His eyes rested on the small green and white box setting there.

Ana face broke into a knowing smile and she nodded. "One for the road? Why not?"

"Actually, I wanted Ronon to try one," Jennifer explained. Ronon wasn't releasing her hand, she she dragged him along with her and she went to retrieve the . . . _donut_ from the box.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So. . .they have Krispy Kremes in Wisconsin?"

"My God, I've created a monster," Jennifer laughed.

The hilarious mental image of Ronon raiding the donut establishment made her forget the bout of panic she felt when the body of the plane vibrated and bounced as it made its ascent into the skies. She didn't release the white-knuckled grip she had on the arm of her seat, though.

That is, until she felt strong, warm fingers work their way under her palm and around her clammy hand.

The tension in her stomach eased a great deal.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer woke up to find that they were still on the plane. Ronon's chest rose and fell in long, even breaths. Jennifer sighed and lifted her sleep-heavy head from it's place against him. She blinked her eyes and flicked her tongue across her dry lips, tasting a trace of wetness in the corner of her mouth. She sat up more, bringing her right hand up to wipe the right side of her face, and then her eyes darted to the spot on Ronon's shirt, dark with moisture—her drool.

"Oh crap. . ." she whispered.

"It's fine," a low voice rumbled in her ear.

Jennifer gasped as she felt the heat of a fresh rising in her cheeks. "I. . . I didn't know you were awake," she stammered. "Sorry," she winced. Jennifer tore her eyes from the traitorous spot and dare to look up into Ronon's face. The look he was giving her wasn't what she had expected, as his eyes twinkled and a smirk tickled the corners of his full lips.

"What?" She asked, confused. She would not been as amused if Ronon had drooled on _her_ shirt.

"You were snoring, too. It was cute."

_She was what?_ Jennifer's eyes widened. "Wha. . .I don't snore," she shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes darted around the cabin as she wondered how loud she had been, if she had disturbed any of the other passengers. She paused when her eyes fell on the small, chubby hand that belonged to a child sitting in the seat in front of her. A round brown eye peeked at her through the space narrow between the seats.

Ronon hugged her into his side and kissed her forehead. "I guess you do now," he murmured.

"Oh, great," Jennifer mumbled, but she couldn't help but giggle at the thought. "I'm sure it wasn't 'cute,' but thanks for lying. You could have shaken me awake or something," she added.

Ronon just quirked his mouth and furrowed his brow at her in a disbelieving expression.

Jennifer laughed. "Ok. . . I guess not."

"It wasn't bad. You needed the rest," Ronon said, and Jennifer looked up to see nothing but warm concern in his eyes. Since receiving the news about her father's illness, Jennifer had been so wound up with worry that she barely managed to get more than a few hours of sleep a night. And then on Midway station it seemed even worse. In the cold, sparse environment coupled with the lack of personnel, or anything to _do, _except wait, she thought she might go mad. People she was close to were there, but it wasn't home.

It was in the madness, Jennifer experienced a frightening moment of clarity. She realized that this might be what Ronon felt like all the time. Knowing that Wraith were alive, culling, destroying worlds as they had done to his Sateda—his home. He fought the war bravely, had killed many Wraith, but it wasn't enough. Jennifer felt it, too, on a smaller level, but most of the time her responsibility extended as far as the health of the members of the expedition. They were her foremost concern, so much so that she oftentimes she lost sight of the bigger picture. One could reason that this was due to her youth and inexperience. Jennifer—Dr. Keller—knew better. As a medical doctor, she had stared into the often mocking face of the harsher realities of life—death. It was like staring into the blinding brilliance of a supernova and the infinite, crushing depths of black hole it may eventually become.

Her eyes stung with tears at the thought.

Ronon must have sensed the change in her, she thought, as he hugged her closer and rested his cheek against the top of her head.

She barely heard his murmured words of comfort as they caressed her ears.

Soon she was asleep. She didn't stir again until the plane touched down in Eau Claire.

_I look down and on the ground__  
Really can't believe it__  
Gravity could pull me from this height__  
Close my eyes and hope that it's a  
__real smooth flight  
this time_  
—"A320" by Foo Fighters

TBC.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Next stop, Chippewa Falls. No, I haven't forgotten about the coded message. All will be revealed in time. :)

Feedback is much appreciated.


	11. Chapter 10

Back Home – Pt. 10

**BETA:** journeyman07

**SPOILERS:** hints of "Tabula Rasa" and "Missing"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The sounds of restlessness erupted all around after the red-lit sign flashed a symbol signaling that it was safe for the passengers to unbuckle their seat belts and move about the cabin. Ronon looked down to Jennifer, whose head was comfortably nestled against his chest. In no hurry to wake her, he sat back and watched as the people around him bustled about, opening the overhead compartments, hefting their baggage down to the cramped aisle.

The noise seemed to finally get to the sleeping beauty, for she stirred against him. He watched as Jennifer quickly sat up and hastily ran her fingers through her mussed hair, smoothing down the golden lengths. She unbuckled her seat belt, then placed her hands on the arm rests on either side of her seat, curving her spine forward in an awkward stretch. After a few seconds in that position, Jennifer relaxed and leaned back against her seat, finally looking up at him.

"You sleep good?" He asked, already knowing the answer, and therefore couldn't fight the smirk tickling the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah," Jennifer nodded. "Wait. . .I was snoring again, wasn't I?"

"Not much," Ronon shrugged and then leaned down to place a quick kiss on her lips.

Passengers had begun filing into the aisle, taking their places in the slow moving line to exit the plane. Ronon watched as Jennifer looked distractedly at the people.

"You ready to go?" Ronon said.

Jennifer whipped her head round to face him, meeting his eyes. She blinked. "Uh. . .yeah."

The bright smile she flashed him faltered, and she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

"What?" Ronon prodded, leaning closer.

"Look. I uhm. . . sort of failed to tell my aunt that you were coming with me. . ."

_Yeah_. He got that.

Jennifer continued, "And I know it's not really fair to you—"

_No, it wasn't_, he thought, but remained silent, clenching his jaw as Jennifer continued.

"—but Jo is great, so it shouldn't be a problem, really, and . . ."

"Jen," Ronon interjected, causing her to pause her ramblings.

"Yeah," she chewed lip.

"You're right. You should have told her by now," Ronon agreed. He was over his initial annoyance over the situation, realizing that she had been carrying an increasingly heavy burden over the last several weeks. "But," Ronon continued, "I know it hasn't been easy for you. I just want you to be honest about us. Okay?"

Jennifer narrowed her eyes, shook her head in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be honest about us?"

Ronon just looked at her, not really sure how to answer her without it turning into an argument. He knew that it was absolutely a bad idea to have her upset right before she introduced him to he family. "_If he even _thinks_ that you've made his baby girl cry, it's over. And if her girlfriends find out, you're toast,_" John had said. "_Your bank account will definitely take a hit from buying 'I'm sorry' gifts to get you out of the doghouse._"

"Ok, I get it. . . I think," she said finally. "Let's get our stuff," she said, averting her eyes from his and then glancing up at the overhead compartment.

. . . . . . . . . .

Once they were off the plane, Jennifer was on her cell phone. "Hey, Jo? It's Jen. We're here. Just got off the plane. Wait . . . what? I'm sorry, I'm getting a lot of static. Ok, I'll call you when we get downstairs. Yeah, ok, bye."

"Come on," she said as she sped up her pace,"best we hurry and get down there."

. . . . . . . . . .

Earth air ports were a strange thing. Ronon looked on in silent wonder as so many people moved about the facility. People going on with their lives, completely unaware of the dangers facing others on other worlds. It was easy for him to think that they were the lucky ones. But then, he had seen the news on the television box of the wars and turmoil that plagued so many parts of the world. He knew that Jennifer was fortunate to have grown up in a peaceful nation, country, but other members of the expedition had it different. He thought he remembered hearing of Radek's behavior during the _Kirsan_ fever outbreak, how in his diminished mental state, he eluded capture, driven on by the fear of those who were put in place to protect him. However, they were the enemy in his mind.

Ronon was still getting used to seeing so many people in one place. Sateda was one of the more developed societies he knew of in the Pegasus Galaxy, and he guessed there might have been few hundred thousand people there when it was destroyed by the Wraith.

He followed Jennifer as she led them through the concourse. Like the infirmary back on Atlantis, this was her domain, her place of comfort and familiarity. He was was fine with letting her take the lead in a medical capacity, but he had to fight hard to let her be when they were in a less controlled environment. The incident in the Colorado airport still had him on edge as well.

"Ronon," Jennifer's urgent tone cut into his thoughts.

"What," he didn't stopped next to Jennifer.

"Would you relax?"

"What do you mean?"

Jennifer crossed her arms over her midsection as she explained. "I can feel you looking around and stuff. . .all tense and everything. You're making me jumpy."

"Sorry, I'm just—" he snapped his head around as a kid knocked into the pack on his shoulder.

"Johnny!" Both he and Jennifer looked in the opposite direction of the boy, to see a woman speed walking with a stern look on her face. Her expression changed to uncertainty when she looked at the couple. "I'm sorry. Excuse him." She smiled briefly and then walked passed them, grabbing the little young boys arm and tugging him along with her. The woman spared one last glance toward Ronon and then leaned down and whispered something in the boy's ear before they disappeared into the crowd.

Jennifer smirked and looked back up at Ronon. "You were saying?"

"Yeah. . .just not used to all this, all these people," he shrugged. Ronon also wasn't used to having to explain his feelings about anything, but he was learning that Jennifer liked to know such things. He realized that it wasn't so much as the number of people, but that they were all strangers. It was his nature to be on guard in unfamiliar territory.

"Oh," Jennifer said as realization dawned. She relaxed her arms from their crossed position and lowered them to her sides. "Well, we'll be in a place with considerably less people soon enough," she smiled.

She jumped as the cellphone rang once more. She hastily retrieved the device from her pocket slid it open. "Yeah," she said, not taking time for formal greetings, as she seemed to know who had called.

He shadowed Jen as she walked, nodding and making noises of affirmation in response to what her aunt was telling her. She stepped onto what appeared to be a staircase, except it descended automatically, carrying the rider to the ground floor of the airport.

She paused speaking, apparently listening to the person on the other end. Her brow creased with concentration as she nodded. It seemed Jennifer was having a difficult time hearing over the noise around them. After a moment, he saw her eyes widened, and a smile broke across her face. "That's really great to hear," she said.

She flicked her eyes to Ronon and then brushed a stray strand behind her free ear. She sighed, "Yeah, I said 'we.' Uhm. . .I have someone with me."

Jennifer bit her lip. "Yes. . .it's kind of a long story. I'll see at baggage claim. Ok bye—" Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Yes, it's a _male_ someone." Jennifer made a dubious face and then choked back a laugh. "No, he's not a body guard or military escort. Really. I'll see you in a few minutes." She hastily slid the phone closed as her cheeks flushed.

Ronon couldn't' resist asking. "Bodyguard?" he prodded, raising a brow.

Jennifer laughed, finally. "Yeah. My family knows that the work I do is highly classified." She shrugged, "She doesn't know it's not nearly as glamorous as the movies."

"No Krispy Kreme," Ronon stated. He hadn't really intended to make Jennifer laugh, but it was nice all the same. It was a sudden, surprised laughter, and her eyes were bright when she turned her head to regard him.

"Right," she smirked.

When they stepped off the staircase—_escalator_, he recalled the term—Jennifer moved aside to let other people pass as she turned to him. "Well, she knows you're here now," Jennifer said.

"Great," Ronon mumbled.

"She also said Dad's doing much better," she squeezed his hand. "God, he gave me such a scare," she whispered. "I won't feel right until I can actually see that he's ok, though. You know?"

Yes. He knew. It was when he, Sheppard and McKay had gone to find her and Teyla on New Athos. While surveying the area from the security of a cloaked Jumper, they had flown over the Bola Kai encampment, and a cold, hollow feeling tightened in Ronon's gut, a feeling of dread that only lifted once they had found the two women, alive and relatively well, considering their ordeal. Later that that night, back on Atlantis, he wandered into the infirmary, intent on seeing Teyla. The Athosian was fast asleep, but it was enough for him to see that she was alright. On his way out, a light on in the CMO's office caught his attention, so he stopped to check it out. He found Jennifer there, and he'd startled her, as usual. She had been crying, but quickly composed herself, going into her doctor mode, figuring he needed some sort of medical attention.

He didn't know why at the time, but he lied about his shoulder bothering him. No matte that it was midnight, and her shift had ended long ago. Jennifer, Dr. Keller, was intent on seeing to him, caring for him—and that had made an impression. He wished he could tell her, but it had been a lifetime since he'd had to express himself in such terms—since he'd even wanted to.

Ronon saw that Jennifer was beginning to blush under the intensity his gaze. He reached out, his fingers brushing her waist, as he intended to pull her close.

Then _his_ phone rang.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: I know it's been a long time coming. I may have fudged a bit on how busy the airport is in Eau Claire.

'll try very hard to get the next chapter up in a timely fashion. I know many Ronon/Keller writers took a major hit to their respective Muses after "The Lost Tribe." My heart still gets little twinges just thinking about it.

Remember, feedback is joy. :)


	12. Chapter 11

**Back Home – Pt. 11****  
**

. . . . . . . . . .

Jennifer was startled by the sudden ringing. She had a cell phone, but it was not her ringtone. Even more confusing was the sight of Ronon looking around, and then pulling the slim mobile communication device from the front pocket of his jeans.

He flipped it open and put it to his ear, not pausing, as she would have, to check the caller ID before answering. Either he knew who was calling, was expecting it, or...well, there weren't many people who had his number, Jennifer was sure. She hadn't even known he'd had a phone; she didn't remember him taking it out when they'd gone through air port security and..

Jennifer shook her had and took a deep breath. She was getting too worked up over nothing. She figured she was just nervous about meeting her family and it was making her paranoid.

Ronon had taken a few steps away from her and was listening to the voice on the other end. He didn't say much in response, only nodding periodically. "Yeah, I'll be here," he said finally, and then closed the phone.

Jennifer stepped up to him. "Everything ok," she asked warily.

"Yeah," Ronon answered. He reached down and brushed stray wisps of hair away from her neck, ran his thumb along her jaw. At his touch, Jennifer felt all her suspicious musing float away, and her skin warmed at the contact.

"We'd better get going," she said, turning her face away from him, looking out into the concourse.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Jen, he is _so_ hot."

"_Rachel!_" Jennifer whispered back, genuinely appalled at her cousin's blatant appraisal of her companion. Jennifer glanced back at Ronon, who was busy loading their bags into the trunk of her aunt's SUV. More specifically, Jennifer's bags. Ronon always traveled light. Jennifer hadn't realized she had accumulated so many things on Atlantis until it was time to pack.

Rachel, just giggled beside her, staring at Ronon over the back seat. "What? He is." Jennifer had to slap the girl's arm to get her attention. "Don't stare," Jennifer chided, but she couldn't help the smile that was forming. She couldn't really blame the girl for staring, really, as Jennifer had a hard time tearing her eyes away from admiring Ronon. Rachel had a way of lightening the tensest situation, even as a young girl. No so young now, as her Aunt Jo's youngest daughter had turned nineteen a few months ago.

The younger girl gift for levity was certainly welcome after the initial greetings were exchanged in the airport. Jennifer pulled back from Aunt Jo's nearly suffocating embrace, the older woman gushing about how lovely Jennifer looked, and how there was something different about her, and how her ever-thin niece had finally manage to gain some weight while she was away. . .

And then it clicked.

Aunt Jo was nothing if not observant. "Oh," was all the woman managed to say, thankfully, but Jennifer feared Aunt Jo might actually faint if the sudden lack of color in the woman's face was any indication.

Jennifer's face was nothing if not expressive. In this case, her cursed blush confirmed all.

An instant later, her aunt was hugging her again, "Oh, Jennifer . . .why didn't you say anything?" her aunt pulled away, her features painted with a mixture of awe and concern.

"Well . . . I didn't want to worry you with everything going on with Dad," she said.

After that, Jennifer had hastily introduced Ronon to her aunt and cousin.

Jennifer settled into her seat in the back as Ronon opened the passenger side door and hopped into the seat beside her, behind Aunt Jo.

Ten minutes into the ride back to Chippewa Falls, Ronon leaned over, "You ok?" he asked.

Jennifer looked up from her hands, where she had been furiously picking at and biting her nails. She hadn't even realized she'd been doing it until she let her eyes focus on the now uneven edges of her nails. _Crap. _She merely shrugged in response, her voice coming up short in her dried throat.

It wasn't a lie. She _was_ "ok," physically. Mentally and emotionally, however...

_Get a grip, Jen_, she chided. _You have enough to worry about without being obsessive over some secretive phone call that Ronon had gotten. It was none of her business_. It wasn't like he was keeping anything from her. If she needed to know something, he would tell her. _Wouldn't he?_

She hoped he would. Though, she could understand him not wanting to worry her any more than necessary. But, she _was_ worried, and he hadn't even said anything.

"So, Ronon?"

Jennifer looked up at her aunt's voice.

"Yeah," he replied.

"How did you two meet?"

"We work together," Ronon said.

_Oh God_, Jennifer thought has he intestine turned into a knot.

"You're a _doctor_?," Rachel piped up, turning in her seat to study Ronon.

Jennifer nearly laughed at the incredulity in her cousin's tone. "No," she explained. "He's uhm, a special contractor with the military."

"Special contractor for what?" Rachel prodded.

"I'd tell you, but then he'd have to kill you," Jennifer quipped.

Rachel's cocked an eyebrow, and mumbled, "I don't doubt it."

Aunt Jo reached over and smacked her daughter's thigh. The girl shrieked and turned, sitting back in her seat.

"_Ma!_ What was that for?"

Her mother just shot her a look—_the look_—and Jennifer put her head down to hide her grin. She'd wanted to smack Rachel long ago.

. . . . . . . . . .

A/N: _Yes, she's named after you, **sezj**. ;) Thanks for all your feedback on this story so far. Many thanks to **journeyman07** for the beta and encouragement (check out her latest, "The Torren Effect"). I know this is short, but I needed to get it posted just to get back into things. I have a long break coming up (yay!), and I hope to get this updated soon. I know I said that with the last chapter, but...yeah. Thanks for hanging with this story._


	13. Chapter 12

**Back Home – Pt. 12**

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As they pulled into the lot in front of the medical center, Jennifer became particularly antsy at Ronon's side. She leaned forward in her seat and instructed her aunt to pull the car up to the front of the building to drop her off.

"Alright, I understand you're eager to get to your father," Aunt Jo said.

"Oh, yeah..." Jennifer mumbled as if she'd forgotten. Then he heard her whisper something that sounded a lot like "bathroom" and her remembered that her pregnancy caused her to have to go a lot more often.

Aunt Jo maneuvered the vehicle alongside the curb, and the car had barely rolled to a full stop when Jennifer flung her door open and made her exit. Ronon did the same, and he waited as she scurried around to meet him.

A dull humming sound reached his ears, and Ronon turned to see the front passenger's side window lowering. Rachel's reddish brown waves blowing across her face as she stuck her head out into the wind. "Uncle Jim's room number is 3802," she said.

"I'll call and let him know you're coming up," her aunt added.

"Ok, thanks," Jennifer nodded, and then Ronon followed her as she walked briskly toward the sliding glass doors of the infirmary entrance.

He stayed closely behind Jennifer as she took a moment to get her bearings in the place. She looked around, and then seemed to see what she was looking for, and rushed off to the left. She turned and nearly ran into Ronon's chest, obviously not expecting him to be so close.

Jennifer flushed as she tipped her head back to look into his face. "I'll be right back."

"Ok," Ronon shrugged.

She was so nervous, and he wished there was more he could do to lessen her uncertainty. He backed out of the main walkway and leaned against the nearest wall as he waited.

Jennifer appeared a few minutes later, looking noticeably refreshed. She smiled as she approached him and then grasped his hand, lacing her slim fingers through his as she led him to the elevators. The thick metal doors slid closed after Jennifer pressed the button that would take them to the third floor. Ronon still didn't like confined spaces such as this, but this elevator car was larger than the one all of them had been crammed into at the airport in Colorado Springs. After looking around, he glanced up, and saw himself staring back at him from the mirror on the ceiling.

It was then that he decided to finally do it.

. . . . . . . . . .

Ronon stopped short behind Jennifer as she halted in front of the door. On the wall beside the jamb were the numbers that matched what Aunt Jo had told them.

3802.

Though Ronon couldn't see her face, he could feel the tension almost radiating off her slight form.

Suddenly, she spun around, and Ronon stepped back slightly.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Jennifer replied a little to hastily. She was talking in a low voice. "I just. . .I think it's better if I talk to my dad a bit first. Just a few minutes, then I'll come fetch you. Is that alright?"

Ronon figured he didn't have much choice in the matter at this point, but her proposal made sense. He did feel weird about her father knowing nothing about him. "Yeah, it's fine," he said after a moment. "Your family will be up in a minute," he shrugged.

Jennifer nodded. For a moment, she looked as if she was debating on whether to say something else. Abruptly, she turned and raised her fist to the door, tapping three light knocks as she slowly pushed the door open.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Dad?" Jennifer said as she walked into the room. She could see his sheet-covered feet at the foot of the bed. The room was dim, the curtain drawn, and it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust.

Her father didn't respond, and as she approached the bed and saw more of his lower body revealed. Eventually, her eyes rested on his head and face. It was turned away from her, towards the window, Two pillows were propped up against his back. In his lap, was a folded up newspaper, and a black ball point pen was clutched in the fingers of his left hand.

Jennifer smiled at the sight. If not for the sterile, bland setting, her father seemed right at home, having falling asleep working the crossword puzzle in the Sunday issue of the New York Times.

He didn't look ill, and that, at least, was comforting.

"Dad," she coaxed again, this time placing a hand on his arm, shaking gently.

It was then that her father stirred. He seemed disoriented at first, and Jennifer leaned back as he opened his eyes, so that he would be able to focus on her face.

Confusion crossed his features only a moment, and then recognition set in immediately after. "Aggie?" He just stared at her for a moment, apparently shocked. "How did you get here?"

"Well, dad, there's this wonder of engineering called an airplane..." she smirked.

"Jo. It _was_ her wasn't it," he accused as he sat up more in his bed. "Where is that traitorous sibling of mine," he looked around as if expecting her to be hiding behind the curtain.

"Downstairs parking the car," Jennifer informed him before mumbling, "Don't sound so happy to see me."

"Of course I'm glad to see my one and only daughter who's been holed up working on some secret project for the past two years. I did get your photo cards, though. Very nice," his eyes were warm with mirth at that.

"Dad..." Jennifer rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile. She was truly thankful to find her father in good spirits. She was glad to see the familiar glimpses of his wry old self that had been missing for so long after her mom...

"How are you feeling?" Jennifer asked.

Her father calmed down then. "Well, pretty good, considering, and—is that _my chart_ you're holding?"

"Huh," Jennifer feigned innocence as she looked down to the metal clipboard clutched just in front of her belly. "Oh, this?" She pretending to read the name on the chart, "Patient James M. Keller. Well, I guess it is."

"Well?" her father prodded.

"Hmm?" Jennifer looked up from the list of medications they had given her father so far and met his sharp blue eyes.

"How are they doing?"

"Uhm..." Jennifer mumbled as she absorbed the barely legible writing. "Ok, I guess. I would have prescribed the different blood thinner, as this one has too many adverse side effects, but..." Jennifer paused as she remembered the man she'd left outside the room. Waiting.

"What is it?" her father asked as he noticed the change in her demeanor.

"It's fine, dad. I'm just glad you're well, _considering_," she leaned down and gave him a quick kiss.

She walked to the foot of his bed and replaced in its holder.

_What now_, she thought, as she absently trailed her fingers over the smooth edge of the footboard.

She decided to start simple. "Look, Dad. I know you didn't want me to leave everything behind and come here to see you," she glanced up at her father to see that so far, he had a neutral expression as he listened. "Under different circumstances, I might not have been able to come. However, things have been pretty slow lately, with work and all, so, I was able to make the trip.

She folded her laced her fingers together the to stop the nervous fidgeting, a tell-tale sign of her nervousness. She paused, opening her mouth and closing it again as a lump formed in her belly. She hadn't imagined this would be so hard.

"What is it, Jen?" her father said, using the middle name she preferred rather than the pet name for her.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet." She said.

At first, her father said nothing, but his graying eyebrows raised noticeably as he studied his only daughter. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Jennifer said as she felt her cheeks warming. "He's—"

A slight knock on the door was heard before it swung open. Jennifer wasn't surprised that Ronon may have grown impatient standing outside the door, but the figure that came into the room was quite a few inches shorter, and definitely had less hair.

Definitely not Ronon.

"Ah, Dr. Andrews," her father greeted the man. This is the daughter I was telling you about." The man smiled politely as her father and then turned his eyes to Jennifer.

"Jay Michael?" Jennifer asked; she knew exactly who he was—John "Jay" Michael Andrews.

The doctor just stared at her, seemingly taken aback by her recognition of him. Jennifer wasn't surprised, though. She looked a lot different years ago, in medical school. Slimmer, a lot less pregnant.

"Wait...Keller_?_ _Jennifer_ Keller?"

Ok, so he did remember her. "Wow. It's been a while. You look, uhm, very well."

"I am, thank you," she gave a small smile. "Good to see you made it through school..and became a...cardiologist?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, as he reached over to retrieve her father's chart. "Took a bit longer than I would have liked, but yeah, made it."

"I see," Jennifer nodded. "My dad said he told you about me, though?" she said, wondering why he did not recognize her initially."

"Yes. He mentioned his daughter was a doctor, but he said your name was...Aggie?"

_Oh, gee_... Jennifer felt her cheeks warming. Her dad had the unfortunate tendency of using that name over Jennifer, to her long-suffering embarrassment.

Jay Michael looked at her, apparently expecting some explanation of the alternate name, but when neither she nor her father gave one, he turned his attention to the older man once more. "So, how are you feeling, Mr. Keller?" the doctor asked.

"Oh, I'll be much better when you tell me I can go home."

Jennifer's just rolled her eyes and smiled. It wasn't in her father's character to just sit around and wait to get better. He must have realized though, that the more he rested in the hospital, the quicker he would be able to go home.

"I don't imagine they'll keep you here much longer, dad," she said, as she looked at Jay Michael—Dr. Andrews, now—for confirmation.

"You've been recovering remarkably well, so far, sir. I'm going to consult with our primary physician to be sure, but I think you can expect to be discharged by tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, barring any complications," he said as he scribbled something onto the medical chart.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Hey."

Ronon looked up from the recent message on his mobile phone. "Hey," he said, as he nodded to first Rachel, and then her mother who was a few paces behind her.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting," Ronon replied.

"Ah," the girl nodded. "So...Jen's in there?"

"Yeah. Doctor went in not too long ago," he told them.

"Oh, good. Hopefully he came bearing a good prognosis," Aunt Jo said to no one in particular. "You coming?" she asked Ronon now, as she held her hand on the door, ready to push it open.

"I should probably....wait," he finished with a shrug.

"Alright," Joanna nodded in understanding. She turned her gaze to her daughter.

"I'm gonna head to the caf. Kinda starving," she looked between her mom and Ronon.

"Ok," her mother accepted, appearing more amused than anything at daughter's words. Joanna gave Ronon a small smile before walking into the room.

Ronon expected Rachel to bounce away once her mother was gone.

She didn't.

Instead, Rachel lingered beside him, taking up a space on the wall not far from him. From the corner of his eye, he could see her playing with the ends of her hair in a way similar to how Jen would pick at her nails.

"So," she said, and he turned his head to the left and down to meet her inquisitive brown eyes. He wasn't sure he quite like the slightly accusing look in her eye as she spoke what was on her mind.

"You're going to propose to my cousin." It was the fact that she didn't say it like a question that caught him off guard.

. . . . . . . . . .

_A/N: Beta'd by **journeyman07**. There are a lot of elements going on in this story that require a gradual build, so thanks for continuing to be patient. I may have fudged a bit on the medical jargon. Sorry, it's late. Feedback is very much appreciated and expected. :)_


	14. Chapter 13

_**Notes:** Thanks to_** journeyman07**_ for taking the time to beta this before going on vacation. She's awesome (or I'm just really special) :D._

. . . . . . . . . .

Ronon had been staring at Rachel since she had spoken, a time ago which he was pretty sure was stretching out into minutes.

Finally, he raised and eyebrow, and suddenly the girl no longer held his gaze, and he was surprised to find a blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Sorry," she said hastily. "Didn't mean to freak you out there. The thought just popped in my head."

Ronon shrugged in and softened his face in an attempt to put Rachel at ease. For some reason, he liked her, and he figured that was a good thing, since he was very seriously trying to be a part of her family.

"You're right," he said in as low voice, and at his word's the girl's disposition changed from awkward to one of barely contained glee.

"Oh my God. I _knew_ it," she said in an excited whisper. She looked at the door to her uncle's room and quickly schooled her features. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. Dude...ok. I'm gonna be cool, don't worry. You want anything from the caf?"

Ronon wasn't familiar with that term, but she had said she was hungry before...maybe it was something like the mess on Atlantis.

"Sure, what would you like?" Rachel asked as she stepped away from the wall and into the walkway.

"Krispy Kreme."

. . . . . . . . . .

"Alright looks like you'll be out of here in a couple of days, Mr. Keller." He turned to Jennifer. "It was good seeing you again." He nodded at Aunt Jo, who had taken a seat in the chair against the wall, directly across from the food of her brother's bed.

"You, too," Jennifer smiled in return. "Thank you," she told Dr. Andrews before he nodded once more and turned to leave.

"Nice young man," Mr. Keller said after the door had closed behind the doctor.

Jennifer knew that tone anywhere. "Dad..."

"What. Just making an observation. You two never," he made a vague gesture with his hands, "dated or anything?"

"Dad!"

Her father just gave an innocent shrugged as he eyes the newspaper in his lap.

Jennifer continued, "I was too busy in med school to be concerned with dating." Most of the guys she encountered had girlfriends already or just didn't show any interest in her, not that Jennifer minded much at the time. She was too consumed with proving that she should even be there, keeping up with her studies. Not to mention that most guys her age were either too immature, and the ones that weren't were intimidated by her intelligence, or they only wanted to hook up... The list was seemingly endless as to why she had such a lack of experiences in relationships.

"Anyway," Jennifer sighed after getting her mind back on track. If she didn't tell her father about Ronon now, the meeting between the two men would be even more awkward. "I met someone on . . .where I'm stationed."

"Oh?" her father looked up from his reading and into her face. "I guess it's serious if you're telling me. Usually the old father is the last to know, until it comes down to the guy asking for his daughter's hand in marriage. That is, if people even do that anymore."

Jennifer let out a nervous laugh at that. She could already feel her cheeks growing red. She was never going to get through this if her father kept interrupting.

"Yes, it is serious, you could say. As you know, my job doesn't allow me to get much time off..." at her father's tut of agreement she acknowledged, "and yes, I know you'd like me to tell you more, but I just can't. So, uhm. . ." Jennifer steeled her self to utter the words, but they just wouldn't come. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming queasiness in her stomach, and the room began to swim. _Oh, no...not now_, she thought.

"Honey," her father said, reaching for her arm, "What's wrong?"

"Sorry," Jennifer managed to choke through her fingers, before running around the bed and into the bathroom.

Though door shut slammed behind her, as her head hung over the toilet, she was almost positive her wretching could be heard to those in the room.

Just great.

"Is she alright?" Jim asked his sister as he tried to get up out of the bed.

"Oh, she said something about catching a bug on her way here. By the sound of it, I'm pretty positive there's some small organism nesting inside her."

Jim gave his sister an incredulous look, but simply nodded, while Joanna got up and knocked gently on the bathroom door before going inside.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I got this," Ronon said, stepping ahead of Rachel in order to hand the _credit card_ to the cashier.

"Ok, thanks," Rachel smiled shyly. She looked a bit shocked at Ronon's actions, and for a moment he wasn't sure if he had broken some kind of social law or custom. But then that familiar blush tinted her cheeks.

Rachel seemed to pick up on his puzzlement, and as she was walking away, she mumbled, "I guess I just hang around too many jerks."

"I guess you do," Ronon said, as he pulled a few French fries from the tray and popped them in his mouth.

He held both their trays as Rachel walked to a table on the opposite end of the room, by the large window. "This okay, she asked, as she pulled out a chair."

Ronon quickly surveyed the room, noting that this spot allowed quick access to the nearest exit, while also allowing him a full view of the room. "Yeah, it's good," he said as he dropped into a chair opposite Rachel. They sat in companionable silence for a while. Rachel had an impressive appetite, finishing off her large serving of fries smothered in a meaty sauce with beans and covered with a melted cheese. The corners of his mouth curved in the barest hint of a smirk at the repulsed face she made when he asked about the lack of "green" on her plate.

With his permission, she forked a piece of lettuce from the remains of his salad. "Happy?" she cocked an eyebrow, after she finished it off.

Ronon only shrugged as he leaned back further in his chair. He mentioned they should be getting back to Mr. Keller's room.

"Dude, you haven't even told me about your grand plan," Rachel whined.

"My plan?" Ronon repeated.

"Yeah, to woo Jen, or whatever. I'm like, a genius, so I could totally help you out."

That didn't nothing to endear Ronon to Rachel's offer of help. Whenever the word "genius" was thrown around, he thought of a talkative pale man who liked to insult his friends and complain about everything. But Jen was a genius too, he figured out, she just didn't tell everyone about it. She didn't have to.

"So you're like Jen," Ronon pressed, "you got put ahead in school?"

"Yeah. Not so many though. I think I'm just way less ambitious than she was. She really started to push herself with her medical career after her mom got sick. And then after she died..." Rachel shook her head, brushing stray strands of hair behind her ear. "I don't know what I'd do without my mom, you know,"' she met Ronon's eyes looking for understanding of the words she couldn't express.

Ronon held her gaze as he answered. "You survive."

"You do, don't you," she said quietly.

"You done?" Ronon asked, nodding to her tray that had barely any trace of the food that had been piled on it earlier.

"Yeah," she said, sliding back from the table.

_Well you're waiting at the door_  
_When everybody's hanging out like they hung out before_  
_You didn't have to do it but you did it to say_  
_That you didn't have to do it but you would anyway_  
_To give you something to go on...  
_--"Middle of Nowhere" by Hot Hot Heat_  
_

. . . . . . . . . .

_A/N: Yay! Another chapter. Thank ya'll for being so patient. Review away._


	15. Chapter 14

**Back Home – Pt. 14**

**A/N:** _This chapter is quite short, but his has been lingering on my computer for quite a while .(That was part of the reason this update took so long; I wanted to have a longer chapter to post) Thanks so much to everyone who has patiently waited for this story, rereading it and leaving me notes of encouragement, even as I dabbled in other fandoms. It really helped to know that people are still looking for new chapters. :)_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rachel was silent on the walk back to the elevators. Ronon was thankful for the respite.

Rachel reached into her pocket and pulled out little white ear buds and placed them in her ears. Then her left hand traveled down to her hip, where a small rectangular device was clipped to her belt. She tapped her index finger against the center circle of the console and a moment a later a soft din could be heard coming from her ears.

Ronon continued to watch her as she bopped her head to what the lively beat of a song.

"If ya liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it..." she sang and then hummed along.

She glanced at Ronon, who cocked a curious eyebrow in return.

"Oh, sorry," she looked down at the ground and stilled her movements.

"S'ok. Beyonce', right?" he asked after a beat.

At that Rachel whipped her head up and around to meet his eye with an expression that was a startling mix of shock and incredulity.

"_You_ listen to Beyonce?"

Ronon shrugged. "Not really. A friend. Meredith," was all he offered, a smirk curving the corners of his mouth as Rachel gave him a curious look.

The elevator in front of them dinged, catching their attention and ending whatever questions remained on Rachel's lips. Her mouth had been hanging open for several seconds now.

The metal doors slid open, and the occupants of the elevator car started at the sight of them.

"Jenn, what—" Ronon started.

"We're leaving," Jennifer stated, and before Ronon could react, she brushed past his shoulder, between him and Rachel. He looked at Aunt Jo, who was just exiting the elevator. The older woman merely shook her head, indicating that she either didn't know what was going on either or that the explanation would take a while.

The tense silence stretched for the entire car ride. Ronon tried to feel Jen out, taking her hand to have a physical connection. She allowed his touch but when she did not automatically lean into him or return the slight pressure of the grasp of his fingers around her, he started to worry. Ronon sighed and leaned back into the cushion of his seat. He released Jen's hand, draping his arm across the back of the seat. Maybe a minute later, he felt a shift in the cushion underneath them, Jennifer fitting herself into his side.

Aunt Jo pulled the car into the driveway of a house. Jennifer just sat in place, staring at her hand, though Ronon doubted was really looking at them. She stretched her fingers, tapped them nervously against the top of her thigh. She blew out a shaky breath, turned her head to the right, in his direction, and Ronon keened his hearing for whatever she was about to say.

But she didn't say anything—maybe she thought better of it—and a second later she was opening the car door, a void left beside him. He quickly went for his door, and he heard the latch to the trunk pop as he stepped out of the car.

Ronon made his way around the rear of the car just in time to see Jenn shoving things around, trying to heft her luggage out. Closing the distance between them, rolling his eyes as he did so, he reached over and around her, effortlessly lifting her bag with one hand. He slung his duffle over his left shoulder. He could feel Jennifer glaring at him. With his shifted the bag on his shoulder and reached for her, brushing a his fingers lightly across hers before grasping her hand.

She did not object to the contact, to his relief, and when her fingers closed around his, he exhaled—relieved.

"Well, let's get you both settled in." They both looked up at Aunt Jo standing in the driveway, watching them calmly, as Rachel fidgeted beside her, unable to mask the impish grin that threatened to spread across her freckles face. Ronon gave a slight nod and followed the older woman as she walked up the driveway, toward Jennifer's childhood home.

. . . . . .

_**A/N:** Feedback is lovely._


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